Accidentally in Love
by bingblot
Summary: Why not talk to him? It wouldn't matter what he thought of her, if he pitied her, because she never expected to see him again. But then she did. A pre-series meeting AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All things "Castle" belong to Andrew Marlowe and ABC.

Author's Note: This scenario popped into my head and I'm running with it. Getting aboard the AU train…

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 1_

Stupid.

This whole idea had been stupid.

Kate blinked back tears as she stared blindly at the chocolate cupcake she'd just bought. Who was she kidding? What on earth had made her think that getting herself a birthday cupcake would make her feel better, make this disaster of a birthday seem less so?

She no longer remembered exactly what she'd thought—or if she'd thought at all, really. She'd returned home after her shift had ended and changed out of her uniform but the thought of spending the rest of the evening alone in her solitary apartment had abruptly struck her as too miserable a thing. She'd started to feel suffocated by the very silence she usually appreciated about her apartment, as if the very lack of company, of anyone else there, were pounding at her with reminders of how alone she was.

So she'd grabbed up a coat and gone out, seeking the noise, the people, the traffic that was so much a part of New York City life, so far removed from the structures of her own quiet, orderly life.

She was generally fine. Really, she was. She didn't need anyone else to take care of her or make her happy or any of that. She was fine on her own, had been for years. Independent, self-sufficient. Her life was neat and quiet and organized, just the way she liked it, and she liked her job. She had finally been transferred into the Homicide division a few months back and was one step closer to her goal of becoming a Homicide detective. The detectives whose team she was on were good cops and her captain was great, a real mentor.

But today had been a bad day.

She'd gotten called out to a crime scene for a body found in an alley and had spent more than an hour dumpster diving trying to find the victim's ID or any other potential clues but had come up empty-handed and it had been her counterpart, Maclaren, who had come up with the victim's ID and a gunpowder-stained plastic bottle that had been used as a poor man's silencer. And to add insult to injury, it had started to rain while she'd been in the dumpster so she'd been thoroughly soaked by the time she was allowed to climb out of the dumpster.

It was the nature of the job that there were going to be days where nothing came up right but today, of all days, she couldn't seem to hold back her emotions.

It was no wonder that the very emptiness and solitude of her apartment had slapped her in the face when she'd finally returned home so she'd been driven to leave it and just walk. She had no particular destination in mind; she just wanted to be out, surrounded by noise and people.

And then she'd come across this place, a tiny little bakery specializing in cupcakes, and she'd been swamped with sudden memories of the last birthday she'd spent with her mom and dad. Her 17th birthday in her senior year of high school. She'd had plans with her friends and had returned home to their apartment just in time for her curfew to find her parents waiting. And her mom had brought out what she called a birthday cupcake (since Kate had declared for years that a birthday cake was for little kids) and insisted that Kate sit down at the head of the table and had put one of those single candles in the shape of the number 17 in the cupcake and lit it. And her parents had sung "Happy birthday" to her and her mom had insisted she blow out the candle and make a wish while doing so.

Kate hadn't made a wish as she blew out the candle.

She'd been irritated and had barely tried to hide her urge to roll her eyes at her parents' cheesy (as she'd thought) insistence on celebrating her birthday like this as if she were still some little kid, her mom's telling her to make a wish as if Kate believed in things like wishes made on a birthday candle coming true.

Kate felt a lump of painful emotion in her throat, unwanted tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

She rather wanted to shake her arrogant 17-year-old self. How could she have been so self-absorbed, so determinedly displeased with her parents' entirely natural desire to celebrate her birthday?

She hadn't known—no one and nothing had told her it would be the last birthday she'd spend with her mom, since her 18th and 19th birthdays had happened when she'd been at Stanford. The last birthday she'd had with her mom and she hadn't appreciated it at all, had barely managed to crack a small smile and not with any enthusiasm at that.

She'd been such a blind, self-centered idiot, she thought, with all the blindness and self-centeredness that generally characterized teenagers, but knowing that she hadn't been an outlier for her age didn't make it feel any better now to her 25-year-old self.

Now, when she knew she would give up everything she had and then some for just one more day, one more hour, with her mom. Now, when she wished with her entire heart and soul that her mom was still here, still with her.

But her mom was gone. And her dad…

She couldn't think about her dad.

Kate gave up on eating the cupcake she had so stupidly bought. Her throat was so tight she thought she might choke if she had to force down a bite of anything.

And tears were welling up in her eyes and she absolutely refused to cry in public. She wouldn't cry, couldn't cry, where people could see her break down.

She leaped up out of her chair and turned to leave, to flee back to her safe, solitary apartment, only to crash into someone, the cupcake she'd been about to discard smashing onto the man's jacket.

Kate forgot her grief and her tears in the more immediate dismay and embarrassment as she lifted her horrified eyes to see the face of the man whose jacket she'd just ruined.

Shit! Oh god oh god, why did the universe hate her today? And where was the hole in the ground that must have just opened up so she could jump into it and never show her face again?

It was Richard Castle.

Bad enough to have just crashed into anyone and crushed her cupcake onto their clothing but to crash into Richard Castle, of all people, like this and make such an ass of herself!

She'd just ruined Richard Castle's jacket, an ugly clump of vanilla frosting and chocolate crumbs smeared across what looked like an expensive, formal jacket.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. It's my fault; I wasn't looking where I was going and I just—I'm so sorry!" she blurted out in a rush of embarrassment, heat flooding her face.

Bad day. Very, very bad day.

Richard Castle's eyes were wide with surprise as his gaze flickered between her face and his jacket and then he blinked and smiled. Smiled? "I guess cupcake frosting doesn't match with this jacket. Good to know."

His voice sounded amused, not angry, but Kate was jolted out of her momentary paralysis and rushed to grab some napkins, tossing out her now defunct cupcake, and tried to make an awkward dab at the smear.

"I can do it," he quickly reassured her, reaching out to grab her wrist and she felt an insane little prickle of reaction from the heat of his touch even through her jacket sleeve. She was losing her mind, she decided, this one last indignity tipping her over the edge. That was all. She surrendered the napkins to him and he made a game attempt at removing the frosting, succeeding for the most part but there was still an unsightly and very obvious stain on the jacket.

"I'm so sorry," Kate said again, feeling even more like an idiot, if such a thing were possible. "Can I at least make it up to you by paying for the dry cleaning?"

He finished dabbing at his jacket and tossed the soiled napkins into the trash. "No, thank you, that's really not necessary, Miss—er—"

"Kate," she finished for him. She normally introduced herself as Beckett but she wasn't feeling at all like her usual, competent Officer Beckett self.

"It's really not necessary, Kate," he repeated. "I'm a father. Trust me when I tell you that I've had much worse things staining my clothes than a little bit of frosting so don't even worry about the cleaning bill. It's nothing. Oh and I'm Rick, by the way."

Kate bit the inside of her lip and didn't mention that she knew his name—no need to sound like some crazed fan-girl and look even worse than she already did—and shook the hand that he offered, amazed at how good-humored he was being about this. He was rich and famous, a celebrity, whose exploits were popular fodder on Page Six. She was hard-pressed to imagine that other celebrities would react with such equanimity and graciousness to having what must be an expensive item of clothing ruined through no fault of their own. It was the sort of thing that would displease anyone. And his self-deprecating quip about having had worse stains on his clothes from being a father—a statement that brought to mind baby food or vomit or worse, she supposed—had managed to ease her guilt and her embarrassment a little. "Nice to meet you," she said automatically and then had to smile in spite of herself at the sheer ridiculousness of the greeting under the circumstances.

Richard Castle—Rick—god, was she actually on first name terms with her favorite living author now?—smiled as well. "Now that that's out of the way, your cupcake was wrecked so can I buy you another one? I should have been paying more attention to where I was going too."

"Oh no, that's all right," she demurred immediately and too forcefully, some of her almost-forgotten emotions at the thought of eating the cupcake returning to her and leaking into her voice. "Really, it was my fault and I wasn't going to eat the cupcake anyway."

"Is something wrong? You look—you had tears in your eyes. I couldn't help but notice," he ventured, his tone gentle. "Did you buy the cupcake to try to cheer yourself up too?"

Too? He'd bought cupcakes to cheer himself up? And he'd noticed the tears in her eyes. (Of course he'd noticed. He wasn't blind and she'd been right in front of him.) "Too?" she blurted out unthinkingly.

He winced a little. So he hadn't meant to say that. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he offered with what seemed like an attempt at glibness. A way to deflect, she thought, because such an offer would normally invite refusal. And then he added with a little shrug and a face that managed to be self-deprecating, "I know we just met so you don't have to say anything. I'm just being nosy so feel free to tell me to butt out. But if you want to talk about it, if you think it might help," he shrugged a little, "I've been told I'm a good listener."

She opened her lips to refuse—she wasn't someone who talked about her life, let alone her emotions, at the best of times, with anyone, let alone a stranger and Rick Castle was a complete stranger, since getting a book signed by him more than a year ago didn't count—but then she met his eyes, filled with kindness. The author pictures on his books really didn't do justice to his deep cobalt blue eyes at all, she thought irrelevantly. And she abruptly found herself changing her mind. Why not tell him just a little? It wasn't like they would ever meet again and there was something freeing about that. She didn't have many friends; she was friendly enough with her co-workers but there was always a distance between them because they were almost all men and she wanted to be taken seriously. Her only real friend these days was Lanie Parish and she had only known Lanie for about a year now, since Lanie had started working at the ME's office. The last person she had considered a real friend, whom she'd trusted, had been Royce and he was gone, had dropped her the moment she'd been promoted and been transferred to the 12th precinct and then she'd heard that he'd retired the next year.

There was no one else, certainly no one she would ever talk to about her mom or her dad, and with Rick Castle, she didn't need to wonder what he would think of her or dread the pity in his eyes because she doubted she'd ever see him again so what did it matter if he pitied her?

He was a multimillionaire celebrity and she was just a cop. Tonight's literal run-in had been the barest chance, one of those random events that happened in a city of so many millions of people crammed on a small island, and would never happen again.

So what did she have to lose? She'd wanted to escape the solitude of her apartment for other people and now, one of those other people had offered to listen. And the fact that he was her favorite living author made her feel oddly as if she already knew him. She knew his author's voice, knew the way his mind tended to work in his stories, so he wasn't a total stranger in that sense either. In a weird way, she felt as if she'd known him for years.

"It's a long story," she answered before moving to sit back down in the chair she'd been sitting in before.

He settled into the chair opposite her, placing the box he'd been carrying with the two cupcakes he must have bought on the table. "I have some time. It'll be a pity party for two," he said with a lightness that in anyone else, she would have felt was jarringly inappropriate but somehow, in him, maybe because his eyes stayed soft and sober, felt oddly comforting. And she was a cop; she knew all about the use of humor to stave off grim realities.

She answered with a faint smile. "Well, the short version of my story is that I had a terrible day at work, today's my birthday and I'm spending it alone because my closest friend in town has to work, my mom is dead, and my dad's a drunk," she finished, the harsh word seeming to sting her own tongue for saying it.

Her dad was in rehab, a voice in her mind spoke up, getting sober again or trying to.

Still a drunk, another part of her mind argued back. She couldn't hope in her dad's sobriety, rely on it lasting. Not again, not anymore. It hurt too much to hope and be disappointed. All the broken promises, all the lies. It all hurt too much.

"I'm so sorry," Rick responded quietly.

They were commonplace words, the words everyone said when they heard about her mom, but something about the way he said them, the expression on his face, made the trite words seem sincere. Made them mean more than they had from almost anyone else in years.

Maybe it was because he didn't follow them up with any well-meaning but unhelpful platitudes about time healing all wounds or about her mom being at peace now or about everything happening for a reason (which infuriated Kate). He said nothing else and she found herself thinking that he appeared to have the rare talent in writers of knowing when more words wouldn't help.

And even though she hadn't intended to tell him anymore—had already said more than she would have believed she would—she found herself adding, "My dad's in rehab now so…" She trailed off, not quite able to say anything to indicate that her dad would end up successfully conquering his addiction. She couldn't hope.

But she couldn't put that into words.

His expression eased a little. "I hope it helps."

Her heart pinched. She did too but she didn't dare let herself believe that.

Her dad had called her to wish her a happy birthday and mention that he should be finishing with rehab in a matter of weeks and then he would see her again. She'd felt curiously numb as she answered, with careful politeness, that she would like that and wished him luck—an awkward thing to say but all that came to mind. And the entire conversation had been awkward; she and her dad no longer knew what to say to each other.

She made an attempt at a smile that she suspected ended up looking more like a grimace. "What's your sad story?"

He grimaced a little. "After yours, mine doesn't seem worth telling."

She raised her eyebrows at him slightly in a mildly interrogatory fashion. "No evasive maneuvers. We had a deal, didn't we?"

He gave in with a small moue of resignation. "My ex-wife was supposed to come out for Thanksgiving to spend some time with my daughter and my daughter's been looking forward to it for weeks. But then my ex-wife called tonight to say that an audition came up and so she won't be coming after all." He paused, a scowl creasing his brows and making his eyes darken to midnight blue with anger, and then added, bleakly, "My daughter's going to be heartbroken and I'm going to be the one who has to break her heart."

She'd known he had a daughter from the author blurbs of his books (the single sentence stating that Richard Castle lived in New York with his daughter) but she also knew, from interviews he'd given and mentions of his publicity events in the papers, that he never mentioned his daughter in public, was apparently very careful about protecting her. She was a little surprised that he was mentioning her now but then, she supposed the relative anonymity that had allowed her to talk to him also allowed him to mention his daughter. And he didn't know she knew who he was so his instinct to protect his daughter from any publicity wasn't kicking in. "How old is your daughter?"

His expression softened immediately, lighting up with a small smile at the mention of his daughter and something inside her chest went soft. Oh, wow. She'd had no idea that Richard Castle was such a… well, a _dad_. It was such a… normal, humanizing thing to find out. It occurred to her belatedly that he must have full custody of his daughter, which was unusual.

"She's 9 and she's great." His expression turned grim and a little sad. "How am I supposed to break her heart? I can't stand thinking about it." He gestured at the box of cupcakes. "That's why I got these. Thought they might help cheer her up." He gave a little, unamused laugh. "Cupcakes to heal a broken heart. Stupid idea."

Kate thought about a little nine-year-old girl having her heart broken because her mom thought an audition was more important than spending Thanksgiving with her daughter. (Rick hadn't said that in so many words but Kate could read between the lines to get at the implication.) Her heart hurt and it occurred to her that she had been lucky too. She had her memories of her mom and remembered perfectly well that her mom, as busy as she had been, had always been willing to drop everything when Kate needed her, just like she had when Kate had needed to get her tonsils out.

"No, not stupid," Kate finally said. "People do things like that when they want to cheer other people up and as they say, it's the thought that counts." She paused and then added, on an impulse that surprised her, "It sounds like you're a good dad."

She meant it. It had never occurred to her before, not that she'd ever thought about it, but it surprised her. From the mentions of him in Page Six, from his reputation as a charming playboy, the bad-boy author and celebrity-about-town, she would have pegged him as being rather frivolous, irresponsible, and self-centered. But from what she'd seen of him tonight, which she suspected was closer to the real Richard Castle than anything in Page Six, he was much more than that. He was… nice. Lame as the word was, it applied. He'd been kind and gracious about his ruined jacket. Compassionate without pity or condescension at her story. And yes, he appeared to be a good dad. One who was so troubled over his daughter's hurt feelings that he went out and bought her cupcakes preemptively to cheer her up. He couldn't actually be that frivolous or irresponsible or self-centered after all.

He looked surprised but didn't quite smile. "I try to be and I lucked out with my daughter."

He might be talking about his daughter but he was still not mentioning her by name, Kate noted. He was protective of his daughter. Even to her. Which was as it should be. Yes, Richard Castle was a good dad.

"I think… kids are more resilient than we sometimes give them credit for being," she offered in reassurance, not quite sure of what to say. She couldn't absolutely assure him that his daughter would be fine; she didn't know that.

"I hope so."

"You can still make it a good Thanksgiving for her. I always think I remember the food best about Thanksgiving." Melancholy twisted in her chest as she thought about Thanksgivings growing up, about her younger self helping her mom in the kitchen, about going over to her grandparents' house for Thanksgiving when she was little.

He smiled, a small but real smile. She felt a ridiculous little butterfly take flight inside her chest in reaction. Richard Castle was a good-looking man at any time, even when he was upset or worried. But when he smiled, his blue eyes becoming brighter…

She'd known he was charming from the book signing she'd gone to, when he had directed a smile at all the fans who had shown up, but she realized now that his smile then had been an impersonal one, something of a persona he had assumed for publicity. His smile now was different, real, not about a projection of charisma—and somehow that made it even more potent.

"That's something at least. I was already planning on going all out for a Thanksgiving feast."

He cooked? On the other hand, in Manhattan, it was easy enough to get the entire workings of a Thanksgiving feast delivered, ready to heat and serve, she reminded herself and bit back the question, her curiosity. He might be her favorite living author and she was finding the idea of learning more about him to be surprisingly thrilling but she was absolutely not going to sound like a fan-girl.

She gave him a small smile. "That's always the first step so there you go."

"Thanks, Kate. This is… nice of you, to listen. You didn't need to do that."

"You listened to me too."

He shrugged a little. "I only wish there was something I could say to make things better for you."

"It's okay, Rick," she added his first name after an almost imperceptible pause. She didn't feel comfortable calling him by his first name but she didn't have a choice since he hadn't told her his last name in what could have been a bid to protect his own privacy. "I really am usually fine. It was just a bad day today. You caught me at a low point."

He met her eyes. "Still. It was… nice to have met you, Kate. I need to get back home to my daughter since she's with a babysitter right now."

"Oh, right, of course," she agreed and stood up, along with him. "It was nice talking to you. I really am sorry about your jacket. Are you sure you won't let me pay for dry cleaning?"

"Don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "I guess I'll see you around. Have a good night, Kate."

"Bye, Rick." Kate hesitated and then reached out her hand and he shook it. Kate sternly ignored the little tingle of reaction that went through her at the touch of his hand, the brief clasp of his fingers. So he was attractive, so what. It didn't matter. He needed to get home to his daughter. Nothing was going to happen.

Anyway, she was probably never going to see him again. They lived in different worlds, after all, multi-millionaires didn't exactly move in the same circles as cops.

So Kate told herself as she strode briskly away from the bakery, refusing to glance around to watch him leave. She made it a block and half away before stopping at a crosswalk to wait for the signal.

"Kate!"

She turned to see Rick jogging towards her, swerving around other pedestrians.

He was panting a little as he came to a stop in front of her, handing her a small box that she accepted automatically. "Here. Happy birthday, Kate."

She glanced at the box. He had bought her a cupcake. A birthday cupcake. She suddenly wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. "Thanks," she managed to say.

"Take care of yourself, Kate." He paused and then he abruptly bent forward as she froze and then he was brushing the lightest of kisses on her cheek, his lips just grazing her cheekbone.

Her face flared with heat, her cheek tingling, her brain abruptly blanking, and she was left momentarily unable to do anything but gape a little as he drew back and then left.

Richard Castle had just kissed her cheek—she could still feel the faint lingering warmth like an imprint on her skin.

She looked down at the box, peeking inside to see that, yes, he had bought a chocolate cupcake, just like the one she had ruined on his jacket.

He had bought her a birthday cupcake. She felt herself smiling before she'd realized it, a tendril of warmth sprouting up inside her chest. It was… sweet of him.

Maybe, this wasn't turning out to be such a terrible day, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you to all who read and reviewed the first chapter. I hope this continues to live up to expectations.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 2_

Kate grimaced to herself and wished for the hundredth time or so that she could go into work. She didn't dare, though. She'd worked yesterday on Thanksgiving, in keeping with her tradition of working holidays, and Captain Montgomery had specifically ordered her not to set foot inside the precinct until tomorrow afternoon for the overnight weekend shift on pain of being forced to take her vacation days.

She glanced outside her window and abruptly made up her mind to take a walk. She could hardly sit around inside her apartment all day. It was one of those crisp early winter days, cold but not excessively so, so she put on sneakers, shrugged into a coat, and grabbed a scarf and gloves before heading out.

It being a holiday, or the day after one, the streets were even more crowded than usual with tourists and holiday shoppers so she immediately decided to head instead to Central Park, where she would have more of a chance of being able to actually walk without having to constantly check her stride for slower-moving pedestrians.

And fortunately, it was just cold enough that the Park wasn't likely to be all that crowded, not like it was in the spring and summer when it seemed as if everyone in Manhattan and the outer boroughs congregated in the Park. As she'd expected, the Park wasn't very crowded and Kate quite contentedly strode briskly along the path. She normally ran but sometimes, like today, just walking was enough to get the blood flowing, the wind wreaking havoc with the short strands of her hair.

She walked for more than half an hour before deciding to stop and swerved over to sit on a bench, settling in to people-watch for a bit. Even on her off-days, she couldn't turn off her cop's brain so she automatically did a quick sweep of her surroundings, her mind mentally cataloguing what she saw. A businessman striding along, talking into his cell phone. A teenage couple strolling together, the girl's hands tucked inside her boyfriend's jacket pocket. An older couple walking along, holding hands. A small group of teenage girls chattering animatedly. A man walking with a child with bright, flame-red hair, presumably his daughter. A trio of young, college-age boys—wait.

Kate's eyes swiveled back to the man walking his daughter. They were still a ways off and the man's head was down so she couldn't see his face as he was looking down at the child but something about the set of his shoulders, the way he walked, set off signals of recognition.

It was him—Rick Castle.

She would be lying if she said that she hadn't thought about him at all in the last week. She'd thought about him as she ate the birthday cupcake he'd bought her the day afterwards, been reminded of him whenever she glanced at her bookshelf and the row of his books sitting on it. And she'd inwardly writhed whenever she thought about telling him about her mom and her dad, spilling the most painful parts of her past to a man she'd just met—what had she been thinking? It had been a crazy, ridiculous, uncharacteristic thing to do and in the common light of common day, it was mortifying to remember. She'd rationalized that it hardly mattered since she was never going to see him again but, well, her rationalization had now been proven for the hollow excuse it was.

She had told Richard Castle, of all people, about her dad being in rehab! She never talked about her dad's troubles! And yet she had, to Richard Castle. _The_ Richard Castle.

Although she found she couldn't quite think of him anymore as being 'the Richard Castle.' For better or worse, having run into him, quite literally, and actually talked to him, he would never just be an author whose books she liked or some distant celebrity figure from Page Six again. He was _real_ to her now.

He was holding his daughter's hand and from the way he was gesturing with his other hand, it looked like he was talking animatedly. His daughter was smiling as she looked up at him.

She wasn't going to disturb him when he was with his daughter, Kate told herself. It would be intrusive and she wasn't one of those people who didn't believe that celebrities had a right to some privacy when they were out in public places.

She knew that being watched generally triggered a person's instincts so she was just on the verge of looking away when he looked up and his eyes immediately found hers. His step hitched—oh crap—and she knew he'd recognized her. Too late to pretend she hadn't seen him now.

Kate raised a hand, intending to just acknowledge him at a distance, but then he took the decision out of her hands by glancing down at his daughter to say something before they changed direction to walk towards her. So much for not disturbing him.

Kate stood up and walked to meet them, trying not to feel awkward.

"Kate, hi. Happy belated Thanksgiving."

That greeting surprised her into a small laugh. "Hi, Rick. And this must be your daughter."

"Yes. Alexis, sweetie, this is Kate, a friend of Daddy's. Kate, Alexis."

A friend. Richard Castle called her a friend. She tried not to react to that—it didn't mean anything really. After all, how else was he supposed to introduce her to his daughter? As the woman who had crashed into him and smashed a cupcake onto his jacket?

Kate wasn't quite sure what to do. She was not used to interacting with kids, couldn't remember the last time she had actually talked to one. But she bent down so she was on eye level with the little girl and held out her hand. "Hi, Alexis. I've heard a lot about you," she greeted, reasoning that it wasn't technically untrue. During the sum total of her acquaintance with Rick Castle, all 10 minutes of it, he had spent a good portion of that time talking about his daughter, at least to an extent.

The little girl placed her small hand in Kate's and shook it with surprising firmness for a girl so young, her smile friendly. "Hi, Kate. It's very nice to meet you."

Kate's smile widened a little. Wow, this girl had good manners. She straightened up, glancing up at Rick Castle-Rick-to see that he was beaming at his daughter. He looked so pleased and proud. He really was such a dad. It made him really… likable.

She focused her gaze on Alexis. Easier that way. "How was your Thanksgiving?" she asked only to be abruptly brought up short at the realization that she might have just stepped into a mine field because they had been supposed to spend Thanksgiving with Alexis's mother, who had cancelled last week.

Alexis's smile faded a little as Kate mentally kicked herself. "It was fine," the girl answered, her manners apparently coming to the fore.

She glanced up and met Rick's eyes and he immediately leaped in to fill the silence. "We had the full Thanksgiving feast, didn't we, Alexis? Turkey and gravy and cranberry sauce and stuffing and mashed potatoes and sweet potato casserole and pumpkin pie. Alexis helped me mash the potatoes, didn't you, sweetie, and they were the best mashed potatoes ever!"

He had cooked? Kate filed that away in her mind. "Wow, Alexis," she said, infusing as much enthusiasm as she could muster into her tone. "You helped your dad make mashed potatoes? Was it fun?"

Alexis smiled a little, her very blue eyes brightening. (No doubting where she'd gotten her blue eyes from.) "It was fun to mash them and then Daddy let me help mix them up with the butter and cream cheese. I like helping Daddy cook."

Rick placed a fond hand on his daughter's red head. "She's my best helper in the kitchen."

"I'm his only helper in the kitchen," Alexis corrected, addressing Kate.

Kate laughed, something inside her melting a little. Alexis really was adorable. "And where are you off to today?" Kate asked, changing the subject before Rick could ask how her own Thanksgiving had been. She didn't want to mention that she'd spent it at work; she knew from past experience how much that sort of confession tended to put a damper on the atmosphere of any conversation as people were always horrified and sympathetic.

"We just had lunch and we're about to go watch ' _The Polar Express'_ movie," Rick volunteered.

Kate had to rack her brain for a moment. She was really not up on children's movies. But then she remembered seeing billboards for it and a few television trailers. "Oh, right, that's been out for a couple weeks, hasn't it? I remember reading the book when I was little."

"Daddy wouldn't let us watch it before today," Alexis informed her.

"He wouldn't? Why?" Kate asked in unfeigned confusion.

"Daddy says that watching a Christmas movie before Thanksgiving is an abo-abonimation." Alexis sounded out each syllable carefully.

"Abomination," Rick corrected. "Good word, pumpkin. And it's true! Every holiday deserves to be properly celebrated at the right time and not have other holidays creeping in and taking over. November is for Thanksgiving. I love Christmas as much as anyone but the Christmas season shouldn't start until after Thanksgiving."

Kate had to laugh. She had the distinct impression that Rick had obviously pontificated on this subject quite a bit. She tended to agree but she wasn't sure if that was more due to her mixed feelings about holidays in general and Christmas in particular that she, for one, wished that the Christmas season didn't last so long.

"Say, Kate, if you're free this afternoon, maybe you can join us," Rick offered.

Oh. What? Kate blinked and opened her mouth to answer she didn't know what but then Alexis spoke up, her voice sliding into something perilously close to a whine. "Daddy, you promised that today would be just us!"

Rick glanced at Kate, apology and some embarrassment written clearly on his face. "Ah, would you excuse us for a minute, Kate?"

He barely waited for Kate's automatic "Of course" before he gently steered Alexis a few yards away, crouching down in front of the girl and saying something in a low voice.

Kate averted her eyes to focus on the other passers-by and feigned deafness. She couldn't hear Rick's words; he was obviously and deliberately pitching them too quietly for her to hear. But Alexis's little girl's voice was high enough that it fluted over the background noise of conversation and traffic sounds to be fairly easily audible, even though Kate could tell that Alexis was trying to speak quietly too.

"Daddy, you promised today would just be the two of us. You _promised_ … Kate's nice but I just met her… I like it best when it's just us, Daddy… Okay, Daddy…"

Ugh, this was terrible. Kate tried to tune out the words but short of physically plugging her ears, which obviously wasn't possible, she couldn't keep from overhearing. Rick's half of the conversation was fairly easy to guess but Kate sternly tried to keep her brain from filling in the blanks; she shouldn't even be hearing half of the conversation.

Rick and Alexis returned, Alexis looking a little chastened and sticking close to her father while he rested his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Are you free this afternoon to watch a movie, Kate?" Rick asked, apparently making an effort to sound jovial and as if the little interlude had never happened.

"I'm not, actually," Kate said with a convincing show of regret. "I have plans with a friend so you'll have to watch without me," she went on, in the interests of verisimilitude, even if she was mostly lying. Her plans with Lanie weren't until dinner time so there would be enough time to watch a children's movie before then but being a third wheel, even in this situation, wasn't something Kate was going to do. And she could understand Alexis's balking at having a stranger intrude on her time with her father, especially from what Kate could guess about Alexis's mother. With one parent so obviously unreliable, Alexis would cling all the more to the one parent she had.

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Rick answered with every appearance of sincerity. "Maybe some other time, then."

"Maybe," Kate hedged. She couldn't imagine actually going to the movies with Rick Castle and his daughter. She didn't often go to the movies as it was.

Kate bent to address Alexis. "I hope you enjoy the movie, Alexis. I remember I liked the book when I was little."

Alexis brightened up a little. "I like the book too."

"It was nice running into you like this, Kate," Rick inserted.

"Yes," she agreed. "Enjoy the movie and have a good rest of the weekend."

"You too, Kate."

"Bye, Kate. It was nice to meet you," Alexis piped up.

"It was nice meeting you too, Alexis. Have fun with your dad."

"Oh, Alexis and I always have fun, don't we, Alexis?" Rick spoke up.

Alexis gave a rather gamine little grin. "Yeah, we do. Daddy and I are best buddies."

"That's great," Kate managed to say through the sudden constriction in her throat, the pang of something that she refused to admit might be envy. "Bye, Rick, Alexis."

"Take care, Kate."

With that, Rick and Alexis were on their way while Kate quickly strode in the opposite direction, fighting the sudden ignoble emotions rioting inside her. Alexis's innocent statement that she and her dad were best buddies had hit Kate in the sternum, a memory from nearly twenty years ago winging back to her mind. Her younger self waving goodbye to her mom as she and her dad had left for a Mets game at Shea Stadium and exclaiming cheerfully to her mom that she and Daddy always had a good time together because they were buddies. Baseball had been one of the things she and her dad had always shared. Her mom had not had much interest in baseball and although her mom had made an effort to learn about the game for her dad's sake, it had still never been one of her mom's favorite things to do so her mom had been happy enough to let young Katie go off with Jim Beckett for a father-daughter day watching the Mets.

She had forgotten… or deliberately tried to suppress… her happy memories with her dad from her childhood, all her childish faith in her dad, her blind love, eroded away after five years of watching him slip deeper into his addiction, five years of broken promises that he would stop drinking, of relapsing. Five years of tears and reproaches and anger and helplessness and heartbreak.

But now, seeing the way Rick was with his daughter, hearing his daughter's blithe assertion of being "best buddies" with her dad, the memories came flooding back. It was painful, bittersweet, but in a weird way, it was good, she thought, somehow. It had been so long since she'd associated her dad with any positive emotions that she'd forgotten what it was like to feel that way about her dad. Forgotten, really, how much she'd loved her dad. For five years, the thought of her dad had only evoked worry and disappointment and betrayal and anger and grief. She dreaded every phone call, every visit. And with her job, the parent-child relationships she saw tended to all be dysfunctional in some way or another, making it even easier to forget what it was like to have a healthy, positive relationship with a parent.

Her dad was in rehab, had been sober now for nearly two months. Which was, a tiny voice in her mind spoke up, longer than he had ever managed to stay sober before.

She was still afraid to hope, to rely on his sobriety, but the flood of memories of the good times gave her something concrete to hope for. A wish for the future, as it were. The reminder of the relationship she had once had with her dad—the relationship that she wished—hoped they would be able to recover somehow.

If he stayed sober.

If he meant it this time.

It was an odd thing to realize after all this time, that she really and truly _wanted_ her dad to recover, wanted her old relationship with her dad back.

When had she stopped really wanting or hoping for more? When had her efforts to save her father from himself become something she did out of a sense of duty, of responsibility, than because it was something she herself wanted? She didn't know.

All she knew was that she really did want her dad back for her own sake—and that meant something. Somehow.

* * *

Alexis was fretting over something. Castle could tell because she'd been quiet and subdued since they'd finished dinner and there was the faintest of frowns creasing her brow as she read her book, more slowly than she normally read.

And while he didn't like knowing that Alexis was worried, he knew that she would tell him about it eventually. She almost always did. The only subject on which Alexis was not that forthcoming, even with him, was when it came to Meredith and how Alexis felt about Meredith's indifferent parenting. Alexis's hurt when Meredith broke yet another promise wasn't something Alexis talked about. It slipped out here and there in comments and questions that broke his heart—and made him think that he could really grow to hate Meredith. Like this time for Thanksgiving—all Alexis had really said in response to his telling her the news was an initial protest, "But she promised!" followed a little later by a quiet, "I haven't seen Mommy since she took me to Paris." Which had been more than six months ago.

But the look in Alexis's eyes now wasn't the same wounded look she got when she was thinking about Meredith so he trusted that Alexis would tell him before too long after she'd cogitated over it.

She was such a serious little person, his daughter, even with her childish energy and enthusiasm and mischief. It never failed to amaze him, that she was such a unique, distinct personality from either him or Meredith or even his mother. He didn't know how he and Meredith had managed to create such a thoughtful person, who didn't seem to have an impulsive bone in her body, but he was thankful for it every day. Endlessly fascinated by the workings of her mind. He smiled to himself as he watched her reading her book, his chest filling with so much awe and humility and love it was a wonder that he could contain it all without exploding. His precious baby girl.

"Okay, pumpkin, it's time for bed," he announced.

Alexis looked up and closed her book. "Yes, Daddy."

He frowned a little as she proceeded to walk up the stairs, rather than scampering the way she usually did.

He hovered as she completed her nightly ablutions and then they settled in for what was probably his favorite time of the day, her tucked into bed as he perched on the edge as he read to her a couple chapters from _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ , their current book. He loved to have her warm weight tucked against his side, loved to hear the little comments or exclamations she made. He even loved the way she scowled at him a little when he gave into temptation and slipped into doing silly voices at inappropriate moments.

Tonight, though, she listened mostly in silence and when he finished and was about to stand up again, she turned to him. "Daddy?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"I'm sorry if I was rude this afternoon with Kate," she burst out. "I didn't mean to be naughty, Daddy. Were you mad at me?"

He sat back down and wrapped his arms around Alexis, tugging her just the tiniest bit closer. "Oh, sweetie, you might have been a little rude but I wouldn't say you were naughty and no, I wasn't mad at you."

He had been a little surprised—and a little disappointed as well—that Alexis, who was usually so friendly and good-tempered, had decided to rebel against anyone else joining them for the movie. Of course he had promised Alexis when he'd first broken the news about Meredith not coming that it would be the two of them the entire holiday weekend with the exception of his mother joining them for Thanksgiving, as had already been planned, and then again this morning that it would be one of their special days, just the two of them, as part of his ongoing campaign to cheer Alexis up in spite of Meredith, but he hadn't really expected Alexis to be so reluctant to give way on that. Alexis was generally friendly and willing to make new friends, especially now that she'd outgrown her shy stage from a couple years ago when she'd had a tendency to try to hide behind his leg on meeting new people.

In hindsight, he could understand it though, as Alexis was rather hyper-sensitive to broken promises right now. If he'd thought of it, he probably wouldn't have made the invitation to Kate but the words had spilled from his lips before he'd consciously realized it. Born of a momentary impulse out of kindness and some compassion at the memory of how bleak she'd looked when she'd spoken about her parents last week and the realization that, given her family situation (her mom dead and her dad in rehab), her Thanksgiving was unlikely to have been a good one. Besides which, he had noticed and appreciated the fleeting look on Kate's face at how Alexis's face had fallen at the mention of Thanksgiving. Kate had momentarily looked stricken and how could he not approve of a woman who would care so much about having inadvertently raised a painful subject with his kid?

"No, Alexis, I did promise and it was bad of me to forget it. But Alexis, sometimes plans change and it's good to be able to accept that. And it was a little rude to protest when Kate could hear you after I asked her to come with us. You should have waited until Kate couldn't hear, like when you and I talked about it together, okay, Alexis?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "That's my girl."

"Daddy, do you think I hurt Kate's feelings? I didn't mean to. She seemed nice."

"I don't think you hurt Kate's feelings," he assured her. "She said she already had plans and that's why she couldn't come with us, not because her feelings were hurt." He did suspect Kate had been being at least partially tactful in her refusal but she probably had been busy since his invitation had been such a spur of the moment thing.

"Are you sure, Daddy? I don't want to have hurt her feelings. Maybe we can go out to dinner with Kate sometime so she's not hurt anymore?"

Crap. "Ah, well, I think Kate's busy but I'll ask her the next time I talk to her," he promised a little uneasily. He could promise that much even if he couldn't promise that a dinner with Kate would ever actually happen. He tried never to make promises to Alexis he couldn't keep; he had seen too much of how Meredith's broken promises hurt her.

But he could hardly tell Alexis that he didn't know Kate's last name, let alone her phone number, so he had no way to contact her again and it was entirely possible that he would never see her again. Seeing one relative stranger again when he had no idea where she lived except to assume it was somewhere in walking distance from the bakery where they'd first met wasn't entirely likely.

Seeing Kate again was made less likely because he was relatively sure that she didn't know who he was either. There hadn't been a shred of calculation in her eyes or her expression on either of their previous meetings nor had there been anything of what he called the "fame treatment," the deference that tended to enter people's demeanors when they realized he was famous. He remembered, too, the way Kate had offered, repeatedly, to pay for dry cleaning his jacket after their first memorable run-in. No, she didn't know who he was or by extension, how rich he was. Unless they were in the service industry, no one offered to pay for minor things (or big things) when he was around anymore. Everyone assumed that he was well able to pay for things (rightly, as it happened) but it didn't change the subtle (or not so subtle) expectation that he would never have a problem with spending money on anything.

Anyway, he doubted he would see Kate again.

But then again, he reflected, his natural optimism coming to the fore, today's meeting in the park had been entirely by chance too so why wouldn't they run into each other again? Coincidences happened, especially in New York with Manhattan being so relatively small and made smaller still by the fact that most people spent the majority of their lives perambulating around the same little neighborhoods.

"Okay, Daddy."

He hugged Alexis tighter to him and kissed her forehead. "Ready to sleep now, Alexis?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yes, Daddy. Good night."

He stood up and tucked Alexis in once she was lying down and snuggled in with Monkey Bunkey. "Sleep tight, munchkin."

"Love you, Daddy."

His throat got tight with emotion, as usually happened when Alexis said those words. "I love you too, Alexis."

She closed her eyes and he watched her for a few minutes before he carefully backed out of the room, leaving the door ajar and making sure the night light was on in the hallway, before he made his way back downstairs.

These hours after Alexis had gone to bed tended to be his most productive time and he needed to finish the edits for the next Derrick Storm book that was set to be published in January. Meredith's flaking out over Thanksgiving and his worry over Alexis had set him behind schedule and he knew Gina was losing patience, although to her credit, she understood that Alexis was his priority. Gina was almost certain to call him later so he should try to get some edits done before she did.

He dove into editing and shortly after, considerations of diction and syntax had driven other concerns from his mind.

 _~To be continued…~_


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: This chapter was one I really enjoyed writing so I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed the writing of it.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 3_

Kate hurried into Remy's and immediately spotted Lanie sitting at a booth across from the bar. And Lanie, knowing as many cops as she did, had chosen to sit on the side where her back was to the door, allowing Kate to slide into the side facing the door as she, like all cops, tended to prefer.

"Hey Lanie. Sorry I'm late," she apologized as she sat down.

Lanie waved a dismissive hand. "No worries. I've only been here a couple minutes anyway."

"We just closed the case so there was last-minute stuff to take care of."

"I heard. So it was Ragosi, right?"

"Yeah, it was. He cracked once Scanlon got him in the box and confronted him with the lab results you got us."

Lanie grinned with professional satisfaction. "I might not have been around that long but I know my stuff."

Kate chuckled. "That you do, Dr. Parish. Hassan and Scanlon said to say thanks."

Lanie nodded but only said, "I was just doing my job."

Lanie had noticed a small anomaly from the initial autopsy and taken initiative to expedite some additional lab results for this last case but Kate didn't comment. They both understood the job and although neither of them mentioned it, both knew that as young women working in a man's world, it was these things going above and beyond the call of duty, as it were, that would allow them to prove themselves and help them advance.

It was this mostly unspoken understanding that had really served to cement their friendship from the start. Or as Lanie had put it on being introduced to Kate, they needed to become friends to help them counteract all the testosterone that surrounded them every day. And aside from that, Kate appreciated Lanie's directness and her tart, rather acerbic humor.

Lanie had been called in to work and so had needed to cancel their planned dinner the day after Thanksgiving. And since then, they had both been busy with work so today was the first day they'd both been free to meet up.

They ordered their food and then drifted into idle talk about other non-work related things when the door opened and Kate glanced up automatically, only to pause at the sight of Rick Castle walking in. A ridiculous spark of surprise and pleasure kindled in her chest and she couldn't quite help her small smile. (Had Manhattan gotten smaller somehow? She didn't know but if running into Rick Castle again was the consequence, she couldn't think it was a bad thing.)

Lanie broke off mid-sentence. "Beckett? You're smiling and this isn't really something to smile about. What is it?"

Kate didn't answer her as she jerked her eyes away from him. She wasn't going to act like some fan-girl—even if she rather felt like one—and deliberately wave or anything to get his attention. If he saw her despite the dinner rush at Remy's, fine; if he didn't, that was fine too. She was going to be cool and calm and act like the grown-up and the cop that she was. Really.

She wasn't looking but she was too aware of him not to know exactly when his eyes fell on her in his idle scan of the restaurant. She sensed his gaze and felt his recognition of her and then was aware that he was approaching the table.

"Kate, hi. I thought I recognized you."

Kate made a valiant attempt to look surprised as she turned to smile at him. "Oh Rick, hi. This is a surprise. I've never seen you here before." (Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lanie give her a pointed look but ignored it.)

He gave an easy little laugh. "That's because I've never been here before. I just dropped Alexis off at a birthday party at a friend's place not far from here and thought this looked like a good place to grab dinner while I wait for her. Do you come here a lot then?"

"I've been here a few times," she admitted. "They make great burgers here and their milkshakes are even better."

"I do love a good cheeseburger so I guess I'm in luck."

Lanie coughed.

Rick turned his friendly smile on Lanie while Kate hastily added, "Oh Lanie, sorry. Rick, this is Lanie Parish. Lanie, this is Rick Castle," she finished.

Rick shook Lanie's hand. "Nice to meet—" He broke off and turned to stare at Kate. What?

"You know who I am!" he exclaimed.

Kate had to laugh at the way that sounded, even as she realized. Oops. She'd entirely forgotten that Rick hadn't introduced himself to her with his full name. His surprise seemed a little overblown—surely he was used to being recognized? His face might not be as known as an actor's would be or as his name was but he was still relatively famous. "Um, yeah, I might have read a couple of your books," she admitted, earning a supremely skeptical raised eyebrow from Lanie. Kate tried to direct a subtle glare at Lanie, threatening dire consequences if Lanie tried to spill the beans about the truth of Kate's familiarity with Richard Castle's books.

Rick smirked a little. "A couple, huh? And you recognized my author picture?"

She tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I have a good memory for faces."

Lanie coughed again and Rick turned back to her, a sheepish expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I seem to be completely forgetting any manners I ever learned. My mother would be horrified. It really is nice to meet you, Miss Parish."

"It's Dr. Parish," Kate corrected automatically. "Lanie's an Assistant Medical Examiner."

"Yes, I am," Lanie chimed in. "And can I just say, I am a big fan, Mr. Castle. You have a real gift for the details of death."

Rick laughed. "Well, that's a compliment I've never received before. Thank you. I appreciate it. So you're a Medical Examiner? That is so cool. And please, call me Rick."

It was Lanie's turn to laugh. "And that's definitely a reaction I've never gotten when anyone found out what I do for a living. Why don't you join us, Rick?" Lanie suggested. "I had no idea that Beckett here even knew you."

Rick's gaze swung back to Kate. "Your name's Beckett?"

Kate laughed. This conversation seemed to be filled with ridiculous moments. "Yes, it's Kate Beckett."

"Kate Beckett," he repeated. "Good name. Nice consonance."

"Thank you, I think," she responded rather wryly.

Rick grinned engagingly. "Oh, it's a compliment."

"So will you join us, Rick?" Lanie inserted.

"If I'm not going to be intruding," Rick hesitated.

"No, don't worry about it," Lanie assured at the same time as Kate answered, "You wouldn't be."

"Well, then, how can I resist sitting down with two beautiful women," he quipped airily as he slid into the booth next to Kate into the spot she vacated for him.

Kate snorted and rolled her eyes a little. Really? It was the first time he had sounded rather like the playboy of his reputation but she was a little disappointed that it was such a clichéd line, even if he had been jesting. "Really, Castle? I'd expect better than that lame line from a writer."

He smirked, his eyes sparking. "Castle, huh?"

Annoyingly, she felt herself flush for no reason she could identify. "Force of habit, sorry. I'm a cop so I'm used to calling people by their last names." His last name had just slipped out, not only because of habit, as she'd said but because it just seemed more natural to refer to him by his last name. It didn't seem right to call her favorite living author by his first name, any more than she could imagine walking up to Dickens and calling him Charlie.

Oh. Oh wow. If his eyes had been bright before, now they practically glowed, his entire expression lighting up. "You're a cop? That's awesome!"

First he was excited over Lanie being a Medical Examiner, now over her being a cop. What was he, a 12 year old?

But Kate found herself laughing anyway, something about his entirely unfeigned glee almost contagious. "There's something rather freakish about you and your morbid fascination with crime and death," she teased.

Lanie shot her an odd look and Kate belatedly realized that she'd just called Richard Castle a freak. After meeting him twice. God, what was it about him that had her so at ease that she would tease him as if he were an old friend? Except maybe it was the circumstances of their first meeting; after reacting with such perfect good humor to having his jacket ruined by a total stranger, she somehow couldn't imagine he was the sort of person to take offense easily.

As if to prove her right, he only laughed, entirely unfazed. "So I've been told. There are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people: psychopaths and mystery writers. I'm the kind that pays better."

"Cute slogan, Castle," Lanie laughed. "Did you come up with that for an ad campaign or something?"

"It was rather clever, wasn't it?" he smirked. "I should write it down for future reference. Nah, it's good enough that I'll remember it. I'm brilliant that way."

Kate bit her lip but couldn't quite hide her smile. She normally hated arrogance but something about the way Castle—yeah, thinking of him by his last name definitely felt more natural than trying to think of him or call him by his first name—talked made it sound less like ego and more like humor. Not that she expected he was devoid of ego—she doubted any celebrity alive could be—but at the very least, he didn't take himself that seriously.

"And so humble too," Kate retorted dryly.

Castle grinned at her. "Touché."

There was a momentary lull in conversation as the waitress returned to take Castle's order—a Remy's house cheeseburger and a chocolate shake—and then he turned to Kate.

"So Kate, you're a cop? What division? Robbery? Narcotics? No, wait, please, please tell me you're in Vice because that would be just the coolest thing ever!"

He really was like a 12-year-old, she thought, although with a tinge of irritation this time and some disappointment too. She had thought—hoped—from reading his books that he wouldn't react with the usual frat-boy-like reaction to the mention of Vice. Too many men dismissed Vice as the sex division and to an extent Kate could understand it but it annoyed her because Vice had honestly been the division where she thought she'd seen the worst of humanity, in some ways, the girls who had no choice, no hope, who were abused and assaulted every day of their lives and had no recourse. She'd seen girls as young as 15 get caught up in the net of some pimps and it didn't help that all too often, with the way law enforcement tended to work, it was the girls, already victims, who ended up getting caught while the pimps went free. So many of the girls she'd come across in Vice lived as little better than slaves. She had expected—hoped for better from Castle, whose books seemed to respect the victims and their humanity.

"Sorry to disappoint you but I work in the Homicide division now," Kate answered, rather chillingly.

"That's even better!" he responded. "I write books about solving murders! So how does it work? I bet you're great at your job. Do you get to carry around a magnifying glass like in Sherlock Holmes? Is it awesome—I bet it's awesome—to be able to just run prints or DNA evidence through a database and identify the suspects right away. Have you had to tackle a suspect to take him down? Ooh or better still, what's it like to interrogate a suspect, do you bluff with evidence you don't really have or just try to intimidate them into confessing?"

Kate's burgeoning irritation spiked sharply at his acting as if her job was a sort of game to engage in for thrills, not at all mollified by his casual compliment about being good at her job. Because really, how would Castle know? He was acting like her job was, if not a joke, something to be taken lightly, cool, as he put it, for the excitement factor, or even as fodder for his books. He might write about fictional murders but what did he know of what it was like to have to talk to the victim's families, to have to see the worst sides of human nature every day? To be a victim and have a lazy homicide detective tell you that your mother's murder was just a wrong-time, wrong-place situation, a random wayward event with no rhyme or reason to it, dismissed as just another crime statistic?

Lanie laughed. "Whoa, Castle, slow down and give Beckett a chance to answer."

"You might not realize it but it's a hard job, Castle, not just something to do for cheap thrills," Kate snapped. Lanie kicked her ankle but she ignored Lanie and went on. "You write about murders but the reality of my job is long hours, dirty crime scenes, and knowing that every day, it might be my job to tell someone that their wife, their husband, their son or daughter, their _mother_ is never coming home again. I take my job seriously because it matters to the victims and to their families to know that cops take their loss seriously and not just as some cool game."

Kate abruptly broke off, coming to the appalled realization of how much she had inadvertently revealed by losing her temper. The arrested expression on Castle's face and the surprise on Lanie's brought her sharply back to reality. She almost never lost her temper like this!

And oh shit, that look in Castle's eyes, the sudden understanding. He knew—or he'd guessed—about her mom.

There was a moment of strained silence and then Castle said, soberly, his tone 180 degrees removed from the bantering, gleeful tone he had been using, "I don't think your job is a game, Kate. I'm well aware that my books are fiction, but it's not every day that I run into someone who actually catches killers for real so I got excited. Excuse me for being curious."

Oh damn. Now she felt like a jerk. His contrition was clear and disarming and as much as she tried, Kate felt her annoyance dissipating. So he could have tempered his enthusiasm but if what she'd seen of him so far was any indication, Castle wasn't given to dissimulation of that sort. And she knew too that she wouldn't normally have been so quick to flare up but just before the end of her shift, she'd been the one to escort the victim's wife in to the conference room so that Detective Hassan could tell the victim's wife that her husband's killer had been arrested, had seen the woman's devastated face, the shock and grief that had the woman going through life in a fog. The fog that Kate remembered so well from the first terrible days and weeks after her mom had died.

"It's all right, Castle," she relented. "I know I can be a little touchy about it but I take my job seriously because I have to. When people lose their loved ones, it's not just about another number for the crime stats. It matters."

"I know it matters," he responded quietly. "That's why in my books, the killer is always caught and the victims are never anonymous."

She knew that very well but was abruptly reminded that that was why she'd liked Castle's books so much from the beginning. It was also possibly the first thing he'd said where she could recognize something of the mind revealed through his writing.

"Come on, Beckett," Lanie interjected. "We deal with death every day. If you don't try to get some fun out of it, you'll drown in the job."

This wasn't a new argument for Lanie and Kate only threw Lanie a mildly exasperated look. Lanie ignored Kate's look and turned to Castle. "Never mind Beckett; she can be a real spoilsport. We could both tell you some stories about the things we've seen that would keep you up at nights."

Castle's expression eased into a smile. "I'm a mystery writer; my imagination is usually enough for that but tell away."

"Well, I was called in a couple weeks ago for a guy who committed suicide by stepping off a 22nd floor balcony."

"Kersplat," Castle quipped.

"You can say that again. I've got a strong stomach after months of dealing with dead people but that one made me want to lose my lunch," Lanie admitted candidly.

"Since we're about to eat, maybe this isn't the best time for gruesome story-telling," Kate interjected.

Lanie pulled a mock face at Castle, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "See, what'd I tell you? Spoilsport."

"You'll thank me later, Castle, when you don't throw up your meal," Kate returned.

As if on cue, Lanie's and Kate's orders arrived, causing a momentary lull in the conversation.

Castle emphatically told them to go ahead and eat and Kate compromised by sticking to munching on her fries, after telling Castle he was welcome to take some.

"Well, gruesome stories aside, now that I know you, I might have to pick your brain to ask about weird ways of killing people. I made friends with a forensic pathologist so I could ask him all my questions about crazy ways of disposing of a body and things like that."

"Like burning a body in a pottery kiln," Kate commented, remembering when he'd written about that in _At Dusk We Die_.

Castle turned to give her a delighted smirk. "You really have read my books, haven't you?"

She felt herself flush a little. She'd betrayed herself with that. "Just a couple of them," she prevaricated.

"You still read _At Dusk We Die_ and you remember it. Thanks."

"Don't be too flattered," Kate retorted teasingly. "I might remember your book because I hated it."

He reeled back, clutching his heart melodramatically. "You cut me to the quick, oh cruel woman."

Kate and Lanie both laughed, only for Lanie's laughter to be cut off when her phone rang and she grimaced. "Excuse me," she said as she turned away to answer it. "Parish." She was mostly silent as she just listened to whatever the person was saying, only answering, "Yes," a couple times, before hanging up, but that was enough.

Kate already knew what Lanie was going to say before she pulled a face. "Sorry but my time with living people is up, apparently. I have a date with a dead body."

Kate had signaled to a waitress even before Lanie had finished speaking so Lanie could request a box to pack up the rest of her burger. As the low man on the totem pole, so to speak, Lanie was always among the first to be called in when bodies were brought to the morgue after hours so it wasn't uncommon for Lanie to be called out. But then again, Kate had the same problem since homicides didn't follow a schedule either and as a uniform, she was always among the first called out to secure a crime scene and find evidence, well before the detectives were brought in on a case. Kate couldn't really remember the last time she and Lanie had actually managed to get through an entire meal without one or the other of them being called back into work. Oddly, though, it had helped to cement their friendship because it meant that they each understood the demands of their respective jobs. Kate doubted that many people would be very pleased when a friend was constantly running out on plans or having to cancel last minute.

Castle stood up when Lanie did, shaking her hand again. "It was nice talking to you, Dr. Parish."

Lanie flapped her other hand. "Oh, none of that Dr. Parish stuff, just call me Lanie. It was good to meet you too, Castle."

He grinned engagingly. "I gotta say, I like the sound of it when you and Kate just call me 'Castle.' No one else does so it sounds cool, makes me sound like a badass."

Kate shot him a smirk as she eyed him, assessing his obviously expensive clothes, his neatly-styled hair. "Somehow, badass is not the word that comes to mind on looking at you," Kate commented dryly before adding, "I'll see you around, Lanie."

"Yeah, talk to you later, Beckett," Lanie answered, giving Kate a pointed look that let Kate know that she could expect a call from Lanie later to grill her about Castle. "Bye, Castle."

"Have fun with your dead body," Castle said blithely.

Lanie laughed and waved a hand as she left while Castle slid into the side of the booth vacated by Lanie.

"That is so cool that she's a Medical Examiner and you're a cop," Castle enthused again, although he made a visible effort to appear sober as he went on, "Seriously, I want to hear all about what you actually do. How does it work?"

"Most of my job is not that exciting," she answered dampeningly, wondering if the reality would quell his enthusiasm and curiosity. "I'm not a detective yet, just an officer, so my job pretty much consists of securing crime scenes and trying to find physical evidence to pass on to the detectives in charge of the case. I have to knock on a lot of doors and talk to people to find any eyewitnesses but then if someone says they saw something, I just bring them in to talk to the detectives."

"Do you want to be a detective then? How do you become one? Are there tests to take or something or is it like an automatic promotion if you've been there long enough?"

She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that he didn't seem at all put off by her matter-of-fact recitation of what she did.

"I do want to become a detective and my plan is to make it in the next year," she admitted, surprising herself a little by the answer. She didn't talk about her ambitions with just about anyone. Captain Montgomery knew about her goal because he was her boss and the one who was overseeing her training. And she had told Royce. (She had told Royce a lot—not that it had kept him from leaving. She shoved the swift stab of hurt at the thought of Royce aside.) But aside from that, there was no one else to tell. Lanie had probably guessed but Kate hadn't known Lanie long and they hadn't really talked about future career goals. And her dad—Kate cut off the thought. She never talked to her dad about work, even when he was sober. Her dad had not been pleased about her decision to go to the Academy and they'd had a serious argument about it, one which neither she nor her dad had ever mentioned again. Her dad had not attended her graduation from the Academy, had instead passed out from drinking.

But with Castle, well, it was different. Maybe it was that it was nice to be able to talk to someone about her professional goals. Maybe it was just that he was honestly interested. There was something a little heady and flattering too about his fascination with her work, with the way he focused his attention on her as if she was the most interesting person he'd ever met. Her heart fluttered a little in spite of herself, and she felt a tug of a visceral attraction that was less about his physical appearance and charm than it was the attraction of being really listened to.

"A year? Does it take that long to become a detective?"

"There's a written examination to pass and you need to get a recommendation from a detective. Most officers need to work in their current division for about a year before they can become a detective, put in the time so their supervisor gets to know them. I've only been in Homicide for a few months so I'm aiming to become a detective by next summer when it'll have been a year since I've been in Homicide." Kate stopped, abruptly becoming aware of how much she'd said. She almost never talked at such length to anyone. What was it about Castle that made him so easy to talk to, made her blurt things out?

"Is the detectives exam something you can take any time? What sorts of things—" he broke off as the waitress returned with his own burger and milkshake. "What sorts of things are on it?" he finished when the waitress had left.

"The exam is offered about four times a year. The next one will be in February and I'll probably take it then. They ask about NYPD rules and policies and there are questions about the law as pertains to police officers. Then they ask hypothetical questions about how you'd deal with certain situations."

There was a brief silence as they both busied themselves with their food, his eyes widening with surprise and pleasure as he took his first bite of his cheeseburger and tried his milkshake. "You were right, this burger is really good."

Kate grinned. "Told you so. I discovered this place about a year ago because it's on my way home from work and I keep coming back because it's so good."

"I can already tell I'll be coming back too. I think this is the best burger I've had since I tried this really gourmet burger place where each burger cost over 50 bucks. This is better."

Paying more than $50 for a burger? Castle didn't necessarily exude wealth and he didn't flaunt it from what she'd seen but this casual mention of paying that much for a burger was probably the first indication he'd given of how rich he was. She only knew of his wealth from the publicity about him; Page Six always made a point of mentioning his wealth. (Then again, Page Six never talked about people who weren't rich and famous.)

They ate in silence for a while and then he asked, "So are you working on a case now?"

"We actually just closed a case today. It's partly why I was able to get away and meet up with Lanie."

"What was the case about? Who was the killer and why did he or she do it?" He gave her an engaging and rather cajoling smile. "As Alexis would say, tell me a story, Officer Beckett."

"I can't tell you all about the case, Castle," she said but couldn't quite help but smile. He was ridiculous and silly but kind of, well, cute too. "The detectives already passed on the paperwork about the case to the DA's office and we're not supposed to talk about our cases in public and certainly not after they've been sent to the DA's office because it sometimes causes problems at trial."

He pulled a face of exaggerated disappointment. "Aw, really, can't you tell me anyth—" he began, only to break off and pull his buzzing cell phone out of his jacket pocket to glance at the caller ID and then put the phone away.

"You don't need to answer that?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Nah, it's my editor—well, also my girlfriend," he amended. "She'll leave a message and I'll call her back later. I was raised to believe it was rude to take a phone call in the middle of a meal," he added with a self-deprecating sort of smile. "I only checked to make sure it wasn't anything to do with Alexis because then I'd have to take it."

He had a girlfriend. Of course he had a girlfriend. And why should that matter to her? It wasn't like she was in any place to be looking for a relationship. Besides which Castle hadn't given any indication that he would be interested in her like that—and he was a multi-millionaire celebrity anyway. Multi-millionaire celebrities didn't date cops.

"How is Alexis? She's at a birthday party, you said?" she asked instead.

"Alexis is great," he said, his eyes lighting up, his expression softening, at the mention of his daughter in that way that was already becoming familiar to her. "One of her good friends, Zoe, is having a princess party for her birthday so no boys allowed," he said, making a face of exaggerated disappointment.

She laughed. "A princess party?"

"Yeah, you know, where the little girls will do each other's hair and paint their nails and generally pretend to be princesses."

It sounded so… innocent, so far removed from her own life that it might as well have been describing life on another planet.

"And actually," Castle went on, "that reminds me that I have a message for you from Alexis."

Kate blinked. "Alexis gave you a message for me? How could she even know we'd run into each other again?"

"She didn't but on the other hand, she only knows you as a friend of mine so she assumed I'd be able to contact you."

"Fair point."

"Anyway, Alexis wanted to say she was sorry if she hurt your feelings that day in the Park."

Oh. That was unexpected. And sweet. Alexis had been worried about hurting her feelings? Kate felt warmth blossoming in her chest, a sensation she hadn't felt in years. She couldn't remember the last time someone had really been concerned over having possibly hurt her feelings. She was a cop, after all, and a police station was no place for anyone who was overly sensitive. Certainly no woman could survive being a cop without developing a thick skin. "That's really sweet of Alexis but my feelings weren't hurt."

He smiled. "Alexis will be glad to hear it but I've also been tasked to invite you to have dinner with us some time."

"Oh." Kate hoped she was playing it cool but she was inwardly reeling a little. She had just been invited to have dinner with Rick Castle and his _daughter_.

She pictured the little girl she'd met, remembered the way Alexis had clung to Castle's hand and blithely said that she and her father were best buddies. The little girl whose friends gave princess-themed birthday parties.

The little girl whose father clearly adored her.

It was all so utterly foreign from anything in her life right now. Childhood, innocence, a close and loving father-child relationship.

She didn't know if she could see more of it—god, was she actually about to chicken out from having a simple dinner with a 9-year-old girl and her father?

Ridiculous! She was a grown woman and a cop and she refused to be a coward like this.

And anyway, it would be good for her to spend one evening with an innocent little kid. A little interlude from her life that revolved around violent death and the worst of humanity.

It was only one evening. She couldn't taint Alexis's innocence in only one evening and Castle would be there too to ensure that she didn't let anything slip about her work that might disturb the little girl.

And she found herself thinking, Castle had a girlfriend so this really was only about friendship and nothing more, nothing complicated.

"That sounds nice," Kate answered, managing a smile.

"Great! So what's your schedule like? When are you free?"

Kate mentally reviewed her shift schedule. "Well, my next night off will be on Tuesday."

"Tuesday should work for us. What time do you get off work?"

"My shift ends at 5." She left unsaid that she almost never left work when her shift ended but she could make an exception just this once.

"Then how about dinner at 6?"

"That should work but I should mention that if I get pulled into working on a case, I might not be able to leave work just because my shift ends."

"Well, I'll give you my number and if that happens, you can just call."

"All right," Kate agreed and then had to stifle the sudden urge to laugh at the realization that she was now exchanging phone numbers with her favorite living author. When had her life become so surreal?

Numbers exchanged and plans made, conversation became more general. He asked more questions about her work and she gave him a brief summary of how a case was usually solved, the process of gathering evidence and the way the detectives constructed a timeline of the victim's movements leading up to time of death to get a picture of the victim's life. She also found herself relating a few funny stories from work, the joking and occasional pranks that went on in the precinct, like the time one of the detectives had gotten a stain on his pants in an unfortunate location, to say the least, and the next day, he'd come into work to find that his desk had been piled high with packages of adult diapers.

It really was easy to talk to Castle, she realized. He was, as he'd said, a good listener and genuinely interested in what she had to say, but more than that, he was just fun. He could switch between being sober and thoughtful and then to making some silly quip or wisecrack in the space of a minute, which was a little jarring at times but also ensured that she was always on her toes and never bored. Kate found herself laughing more over the course of that hour than she thought she'd laughed in the entire week (possibly the entire month) preceding it. (God, was her life so pathetic that she laughed so little?).

She was a little surprised at how quickly the time had passed when Castle checked his watch and realized that it was almost time for him to leave to pick up Alexis from her birthday party. He insisted on paying for the meal, including Lanie's, and overrode all her protests by saying that it was the least he could do after he'd spent most of the meal picking her brain about what her job was like. "I'll write it off as a business expense for research," he joked.

And Kate finally relented when it became obvious that he wasn't about to budge.

"I'll see you on Tuesday," he said as he shrugged into his coat. "I'm glad I ran into you again, Kate."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed and meant it.

"If only because it means I can get inside information about what it's like to be a cop," he joked.

She made a show of rolling her eyes. "I think you've already reached your quota of questions for at least a month."

"Since when is there a quota on questions I can ask?" he demanded with mock dismay.

"Since I said so."

"That's not fair."

She couldn't help but grin at his exaggerated pout. "Get used to it, Castle. Haven't you heard before that life isn't fair?"

"Yes, Officer Beckett. Of course, Officer Beckett," he responded with feigned servility.

Ridiculous silly man that he was. She would never have expected to like it but somehow, she found it amusing and oddly refreshing, for lack of a better word. He was so unlike the men she spent her life surrounded by in the precinct, except for his interest in crime. But cops in general didn't tend to be light-hearted; the job almost inevitably drained people of whatever tendency to silliness that they might have once had.

He threw her a teasing salute. "See you on Tuesday, Officer."

"Have a good night, Castle. Say hello to Alexis for me."

"Will do. Good night, Kate."

Kate watched him go for a few seconds, a smile lingering on her lips.

She was friends with Richard Castle. Who would have thought it?

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: All reviews are much appreciated—and serve as encouragement for me to write faster.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: A somewhat shorter chapter, in which we get to see more of Castle's point of view.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 4_

It wasn't until he and Alexis were back home that Castle had a chance to tell Alexis about having dinner with Kate.

Alexis spent the short subway ride and walk home prattling cheerfully about the birthday party, giving him what amounted to a play-by-play account of it. Her hair had been done up in some fancy way that he couldn't identify but it involved loops and some small braids and looked complicated. He wasn't looking forward to undoing it but at least, thank the merciful gods, Alexis's hair was fine and straight and not overly given to tangles. Zoe's older sister's friend, who was a budding artist, had brought in face paint so now Alexis's cheeks were adorned with a flower and a shooting star, respectively. And to top off this little makeover of sorts, her nails had been painted a sparkly turquoise blue with a tiny white star on each nail. He made a mental note to buy nail polish remover.

He let Alexis do the talking and mostly just listened, a smile tugging on his lips. He loved listening to his daughter talk. She was such fun with her artless little enthusiasms mixed in with her occasional precocious statements. Besides which, he made a point of encouraging Alexis to tell him everything that happened in her young life. He might be worried every day about messing the whole parenting thing up but the one thing he never ever wanted was for Alexis to feel like she couldn't tell him things.

It sounded like Alexis had had a good time, which was the main thing Castle cared about. But he spared a moment to be thankful that he hadn't needed to attend or host this sort of princess party. As much as he adored his daughter, going to a party that involved doing hair and nail polish was something he could live without. The tea parties he'd attended with Alexis and her dolls in years past had been quite enough.

"It was so much fun, Daddy!" Alexis finished enthusiastically as they entered the loft. "I love birthday parties and eating birthday cake and seeing people blow out the candles but the next birthday party won't be until Taylor's birthday in March and that's _soooo far away_!" she finished in a languishing tone that made it seem as if she were talking about something that wouldn't happen for another decade.

Castle's lips twitched. It always tickled him when Alexis showed such a tendency to melodrama and hyperbole. She was definitely his daughter in that respect. "Well, if you don't want to wait that long, we could always have a private un-birthday party with cake and candles," he suggested.

In the blink of an eye, or so it seemed, Alexis seemed to become older, wrinkling her nose a little as she gave him one of the looks she was rapidly becoming an expert in, looking as patronizing as a nine-year-old girl could look. "But Daddy, celebrating un-birthdays is silly because every other day of the year except your actual birthday is your un-birthday. That doesn't make sense."

He had to laugh and bent to give her a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Sometimes being silly is the entire point."

"Besides, Daddy, birthday parties are fun because they don't happen every day. I think if I got to eat birthday cake every day, I'd get tired of it."

He gave her a look of exaggerated shock. "How can anyone get tired of eating birthday cake?"

Alexis grinned. "By eating it every day."

"Ha ha, very funny, smarty pants. You think you're so clever, don't you?"

She dimpled up at him. "Yup. You tell me I'm smart all the time."

She had him there. He had to laugh. "So I do. And clearly you're so modest too."

Alexis giggled as she scampered up the stairs. "I can be modest, Daddy."

"Yeah? Well, modest one, would you like to get ready for bed?"

"It's past my bed-time, I know, Daddy."

Castle loitered in the hallway as Alexis disappeared into her room to change.

"Can you help me with my hair, Daddy?"

He smiled automatically at the sight of her, looking like an adorable little pixie with her hair still done up—if pixies wore pajamas with plaid-wearing Scottish terriers on them. He had the cutest kid in the universe. In his entirely unbiased opinion, of course.

"Of course, sweet pea. Come on, into the bathroom with you."

It took some time but Castle managed to comb Alexis's hair out and his daughter, being the forbearing kid that she was, valiantly avoided wincing through most of it, even though he was guiltily aware that he must be tugging on her hair.

Castle no longer needed to supervise Alexis in brushing her teeth but he almost always did because it was just part of the bedtime ritual of putting Alexis to bed and Castle clung jealously to all the old rituals since he was well aware that in just a few years, Alexis would no longer want him to tuck her into bed every night. And tonight, he needed to check to make sure she washed her face thoroughly to get the face paint off.

"So, pumpkin, I have some news for you too," he began as Alexis brushed her teeth.

Alexis gave him a questioning look in the mirror.

"You remember my friend Kate from the Park after Thanksgiving?"

Alexis nodded and then spat into the sink. "Uh huh. Did you talk to Kate again, Daddy? Did you tell her I didn't mean to hurt her feelings?"

"Yes, I told her and she said it was very sweet of you but her feelings hadn't been hurt."

Alexis rinsed her mouth out and wiped it dry before answering, "Oh good but I'm still glad you told her. Will she have dinner with us?"

"Yes, she will. She said Tuesday is her next free night for now but she might end up needing to work that night but assuming she doesn't, she'll have dinner with us on Tuesday."

"What kind of work does Kate do?"

He grinned, unable to hide his excitement at the idea. "Kate's a police officer."

Being his daughter, Alexis's eyes went wide with surprise and bright with answering excitement. "Really, Daddy? I didn't know there were girl police officers! That's neat!"

He laughed. "Yes, it is neat, isn't it?" That was one word for it. Kate was… interesting, intriguing. Partly because of her job—okay, more than a little because of her job—but also just her. Her past, her story. Her strength combined with the vulnerability he'd seen the first time they met. Entirely aside from wanting to know more about the realities of police work, he wanted to know more about her as a person.

"Do you think Kate will mind if I ask her about what her job's like?"

He grinned. "I don't think she'll mind." Ha! And he hadn't even needed to suggest it to Alexis, as it had occurred to him that he could. Alexis liked learning more about things, had inherited some of his curiosity.

"Oh good. I think it'll be fun to have dinner with Kate," Alexis bounced.

He caught her and swung her up high, making her shriek a little, before he dropped her gently on her bed, where she landed with a bounce and a giggle. (She was getting too big for him to lift above his head like that, he reflected with a pang.)

"Where will we be going for dinner, Daddy?"

"I was thinking of going to Mirabelli's since we haven't been in a while."

Alexis's face lit up. "Oh, yes, Daddy, let's go to Mirabelli's!"

He smiled. It was easy to please Alexis because she was generally such a cheerful, good-tempered kid—and he was thankful for that every day. He loved putting Alexis to bed; it was one reason why it was easy for him to decline most of the party invitations that Paula forwarded to him. He went out occasionally to get his picture taken because his celebrity persona was a necessary part of his publicity, as Paula continually reminded him, but he was happier in the privacy of his home, with his daughter. And he knew too that Alexis didn't like it when he wasn't around to read to her and then tuck her in (although he sometimes wondered if Alexis, wonderful daughter that she was, wasn't at least partly indulging him in the whole bedtime ritual thing. Well, even if that were the case, he would enjoy it while it lasted.)

He was going to be out tomorrow evening so tonight, he made a point of lingering longer in Alexis's bedroom, waiting until her breathing had become deep and even and she was fully asleep before slipping out.

Once back in his study, he called Gina, a little tense because he was never sure if Gina would be annoyed at him over something and he had, after all, missed her call earlier.

"Hi, Rick." Gina's voice was relaxed, even warm, and he felt his tension dissipate in relief.

"Hi. Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"Oh, it's all right. I realized after I called that you were probably still busy dropping Alexis off at her party."

"Yeah, I was," he agreed and then wondered, belatedly, why the untruth had slipped so easily off his lips, why he hadn't bothered to correct Gina. It wasn't like he had anything to hide. But it had just been easier to let Gina's mistake stand than get into the explanation of who Kate was and how he'd run into her.

"I was just calling to make sure we're all set for tomorrow."

"Yes, we're all set. I confirmed our reservation today."

"Good. Oh, Rick, I'm so excited about this. Everyone's raving about this place and I know I've heard of lots of people who haven't been able to get a reservation at all."

"I'm looking forward to it too," he answered and he meant it. The restaurant was one of the newest that had just opened up less than a year ago and the rave reviews it had received had guaranteed that it had almost immediately become one of the go-to spots for the rich and well-connected. Which, of course, meant that Gina had insisted on their going.

"And you found someone to watch Alexis so you can come back to my place afterwards?" Her voice lowered. "It's been almost a week since you last came over, Rick."

"My mother will be taking care of Alexis," he answered, avoiding responding to the rest of Gina's statement. He knew Gina was trying to be seductive, in her way, but as occasionally happened, she missed the mark by alluding to sex in almost the same breath as a reference to Alexis. He appreciated that Gina understood about Alexis's central importance in his life; she hadn't pouted (not that Gina ever pouted, which he liked) or gotten annoyed the couple times that he'd either been late or needed to cancel dates because of issues with Alexis's babysitter. "I can't wait to see the dress you'll be wearing," he made himself add because Gina meant well, asked about Alexis often.

Gina laughed softly. "You'll have to wait and see, Rick."

He smiled, settling back into his chair, as their conversation shifted to other things and they talked for another 15 minutes or so before the call ended. Gina was smart and generally easy to talk to because of all their shared interests. She might not be a writer but as an editor who had worked with many writers over the years, she knew about what it was like to be a writer. And because she read so many mysteries over the course of her job, as one of the main editors of Black Pawn's mystery division, she knew mysteries, understood the rules of the genre and the technical craft of mystery writing so they never ran out of things to talk about.

Plus she was beautiful and poised and responsible and organized. Not the most romantic adjectives, he knew, but after Meredith, pure spontaneity had lost most of its appeal for him, at least for a real relationship.

He honestly cared about Gina, he did.

Why did he have the sudden sense that he needed to remind himself of all this?

It wasn't like there was anything wrong with his relationship with Gina; they hadn't had a fight or anything. Everything was fine.

And they had a date tomorrow. He was looking forward to trying out this new restaurant; he liked eating gourmet cuisine as much as anyone.

And yet, he suddenly thought, he'd enjoyed dinner tonight at Remy's more than any fancy dinner he could remember.

He grimaced to himself. Gina would never suggest eating at a place like Remy's or agree to it short of something drastic like a gun being held to her head. He allowed himself a brief chuckle at the ridiculous scenario. Gina's favorite restaurant was Le Cirque, which was typical of the restaurants Gina frequented—expensive, elegant, formal. A place to see and be seen while enjoying a five-star meal at a five-star price (not that anyone who went to Le Cirque needed to concern themselves with the price). The last restaurant he and Gina had been to, over which Gina had raved afterwards, hadn't even included prices on the menus, except for the liquor selection, on the assumption that anyone dining at that restaurant would never need to be concerned about the price of a meal.

It wasn't that Castle didn't like going to expensive restaurants. He'd been to Le Cirque multiple times to the point that he had his own usual table there that was almost always made available to him when he called. And to be candid, he liked being rich enough that he could afford to go out to these expensive, first-class restaurants every night if he wanted to without making a dent in his money.

But just because he _could_ go to very expensive, fancy restaurants all the time didn't mean he wanted to.

Maybe this didn't say much about him but he really thought he was happier going to a place like Remy's most of the time. He'd liked the casual, friendly ambiance, liked the pub-like atmosphere with the bar and the somewhat separated eating area, liked the wood interior and the artistic black-and-white photographs of New York City on the walls. And he'd definitely liked the burgers and the shakes.

He and Gina had been going out for a couple months now, to say nothing of having worked closely together for two years. Surely they should be comfortable enough now that a date didn't always need to involve getting dressed up and going to some exclusive, expensive restaurant. It wasn't like he wanted to go to McDonald's or something; he just found himself wishing that once in a while Gina would be okay with meeting at a more casual sort of place, where they could just go, no big planning involved.

This was ridiculous! He shouldn't be trying to make difficulties in what was otherwise a relatively easy, good relationship just based on restaurant choices.

Gina was fine. She was great. She never gushed over Alexis and she was smart and capable and responsible—and as far removed from Meredith as it was possible to get. She would be good for him. She'd already made his books better, more tightly plotted, his prose crisper.

And unlike just about every other woman he'd met in the last decade or so, Gina didn't flatter him or fawn over him.

Except, he suddenly remembered, Kate hadn't flattered or fawned over him either. She'd treated him like… well, like a normal person, an actual friend.

She had from the first. It was why he'd thought that she didn't know who he was and why he hadn't been in a hurry to enlighten her as to his identity. It had been refreshing to be treated so normally. It had made him glad that as an author, his face wasn't as well-known as, say, an actor's. Although he knew that thanks to Page Six, he was more recognizable around town than many other authors, part of the celebrity persona that Paula had been at pains to create and encourage.

But Kate had known who he was after all—and she had still treated him just like any other person.

And that was—rather pathetically—a novel experience for him. It occurred to him that this really didn't say much for his life.

In his experience, women wanted him for his money, his fame, and his body, usually in that order. And while he'd had his fair share—and probably more than that—of fun with those women who threw themselves at him with such alacrity, he wasn't naïve enough or vain enough to believe that it really had anything to do with him, as a person. He'd had his fun in the years since his divorce but he'd gotten tired of having meaningless flings with women whose names he barely remembered.

And there was Alexis to think about too. Alexis, who was growing up without a mom for all intents and purposes. Alexis, who would be hitting puberty in a few years—he forced himself to think it, ignoring the cold shudder that went through him at the thought. He might not be comfortable with the idea—understatement since even the word, puberty, in the same sentence with Alexis made him want to run screaming, find a Catholic convent with 20-foot walls to keep Alexis in, and invent a time machine to keep Alexis a child—but since none of those were options, he had to do what he could. For Alexis, he would do anything.

But finding someone who would treat him like a regular person, who didn't care about his money or his fame, wasn't easy.

It was partly what had drawn him to Gina in the first place. Gina hadn't thrown herself at him or treated him like some celebrity rock-star; she was never obsequious or sycophantic. Her very job precluded that in a sense but not always; one thing he'd found as his career advanced was that even editors became warier of suggesting major edits with every best-seller to his name. Gina appeared unaffected by his increasing success, which was a large part of what made her the best editor he'd ever had.

That had made Gina different, why he'd asked her out in the first place.

And now he'd met Kate—and Lanie. Neither Kate nor Lanie had acted star-struck in the least and they hadn't lionized him either.

And Kate was… different. She was… intriguing. Kate Beckett was a mystery. And not solely in the sense that he didn't know her well. No, she was complicated. There were layers to her. He already knew that from three run-ins with her. He knew people. And every instinct in him told him that she was different. He guessed that she tended to reserve; she was clearly able to shoot down any pretensions when her tone and her expression had become flinty. And he could guess enough about what it must be like to be a female cop—a young and gorgeous female cop at that—in the male-dominated world of law enforcement to know that Kate must have a spine of steel.

But for all that, she felt things deeply. He remembered very well the tears he'd briefly glimpsed in her eyes the first time they'd met, had noted the set of her jaw, the signs of self-control when she'd told him, so succinctly, what was troubling her that night. Funny but it was only now, on realizing that Kate had known who he was that Kate's confiding in him that first night made more sense, now that he really thought about it. He was no stranger to the way fame—a familiarity with his name—had a way of making people feel like they knew him. Fame had a strange way of erasing the natural barriers of unfamiliarity and reserve that normally accompanied people's interactions with strangers—while at the same time, paradoxically putting up more barriers between him and other people because of the awe that tended to color people's interactions with celebrities. Kate had not betrayed that she knew who he was in any other way nor had she appeared even the least bit star-struck but he also guessed that Kate would not have told him anything about her life that first meeting if she hadn't known who he was.

Her mother was dead—a victim of a violent crime, murdered, if he had to guess. And her father was an alcoholic. But before that, he guessed that her parents had had money, Manhattan money. There hadn't been the slightest trace of the boroughs in her voice and more than that, there was something about her, about her confidence, the way she carried herself, that spoke of a certain amount of class. No, she'd come from money, he would bet his last advance on that. And she'd become a cop, not a lawyer as most smart, good-looking women did these days. Because of her mom in all likelihood.

But as much as he could guess, this was only conjecture, after all, and only filling in the skeletal outlines of her story. But he wanted more than just the outlines; he wanted the details, the whole story.

He didn't doubt that it would be worth knowing. He could already tell that Kate was complicated, interesting.

In some corner of his mind, a little warning bell sounded—but he ignored it. There was nothing to be concerned about. So he wanted to get to know Kate better—blame that on his insatiable curiosity. And the fact that she was beautiful really had nothing to do with it. Besides, he had a girlfriend and he was happy with Gina and even if he weren't, he would never cheat.

So he and Kate could be friends. That was all and there was nothing to be concerned about in that.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thoughts, opinions? All readers and reviewers are much appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: The conversation between Lanie and Kate.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 5_

Kate permitted herself a small smirk as her phone rang and the caller ID confirmed that it was Lanie. She was familiar enough with Lanie's work habits that she'd predicted when Lanie would call, pinning it as somewhere within a half hour time frame, starting from 10 minutes ago. She guessed that Lanie was waiting on initial test results and was taking the opportunity to call.

She loved being proven right.

"Hey Lanie," she answered, deliberately keeping her voice as bland as possible.

Typically, Lanie didn't waste any time on pleasantries. "Girl, you never told me you were friends with Richard Castle!"

Kate bit her lower lip as she grinned to herself. Yeah, she'd bet those would be Lanie's first words too.

"That's because I'm not—or at least, I wasn't until tonight really."

"Explain yourself, Kate Beckett. How do you even know him? When did you meet? Spill, Beckett."

Kate briefly explained how she'd literally run into Castle a couple weeks ago and the brief conversation they'd had in the bakery, although for some reason she didn't mention the birthday cupcake he'd bought her and she certainly didn't mention the brief kiss on her cheek. The cupcake seemed too personal, somehow, too tied in with her memories of the last birthday she'd spent with her parents. And the kiss on the cheek—well, that wasn't important or worth mentioning.

"You told him about your mom and dad?" Lanie sounded stunned and—was that a thread of something like hurt in her voice? Kate hadn't told Lanie about what had happened to her mom or about her dad's problems until after she'd known Lanie for months. For that matter, she still might not have mentioned her dad's problems except she'd been out with Lanie a few months ago when she'd gotten a call that her dad was in the hospital, having tripped on the sidewalk while drunk and sprained his ankle. Lanie had insisted on going with her to the hospital and Kate had been thankful for it because Lanie's medical knowledge had been calming and her no-nonsense demeanor somehow reassuring, even comforting.

"Not about what happened to my mom," she answered quickly, "I only said that my mom was dead but I did tell him briefly about my dad. I don't even know what I was thinking, Lanie, to tell him all that at our first meeting. Partly it might have been that I never expected to see him again so I figured I didn't care what he thought about it. Maybe I was just desperate or lonely or something," she tried to laugh a little but couldn't manage it.

"You didn't expect to see him again but you did, though, didn't you, before tonight?"

"Yeah, that's the rest of the story. I ran into him and his daughter in Central Park a week later and we talked for another couple minutes."

"You've met his daughter too?"

"Yeah, she's a cute little kid, polite and well-spoken. At least, I thought so, not that I know anything about kids."

"That's good, that you like his kid too," Lanie commented. "More importantly," she went on, her tone changing, "you should be all over Rick Castle. The man's better looking and sexier in person than he looks in his pictures and I'm willing to bet that he's great in the sack."

"Lanie!" Kate spluttered. "I am not going to be 'all over' him! I barely even know him!"

"Since when does that matter when it comes to a guy as fine as Rick Castle? Anyway, don't give me that. I know you like him. I saw the way you smiled when you saw him tonight."

Kate felt herself flushing. Okay, so maybe she had betrayed herself a little—especially to Lanie, who had sharp eyes—by smiling at the sight of Castle the way she had. "I don't like him, not like that," she vowed. (She _didn't_. He might be—a little—attractive but that was all.)

Lanie's snort was eloquent as to her reaction to that.

"And it doesn't matter because he has a girlfriend," Kate finished. "He talked about her after you left."

That, at least, got to Lanie. "Oh. Oh, drat." She heaved a sigh as if she'd been severely personally disappointed. "And here I was thinking that this was your chance to actually get out there and have some fun because, girl, you need to have some fun."

"I do have fun," Kate protested automatically.

"Uh huh," Lanie responded, a wealth of skepticism in her tone. "When was the last time you actually went out and did something just for fun?" Kate opened her mouth to respond but Lanie barreled on. "That didn't involve just meeting up with me for dinner or going out for drinks with the other uniforms after your shift ended?"

Kate shut her mouth, racking her brain. She didn't take days off unless forced to by Captain Montgomery and when she did, she tended to use them to run errands, do laundry, go for a run (which she enjoyed but she knew very well it wasn't what Lanie meant by having fun.) She'd gone to the movies—except the last time had been almost three months ago. Huh. "I've been to the movies a few times," she finally answered. She had—just not very lately but Lanie didn't need to know that. God, was her life so boring?

But the idea of going to a club was no longer very appealing; she'd had to go to too many of the sleazier clubs during her stint in Vice. And beyond that, the idea of drinking to excess had lost all appeal thanks to her dad. She didn't do one night stands because the last one she'd attempted about six months ago had been a fiasco (a boring fiasco, which didn't help) and she knew too much of the risks to make the idea appealing anyway. And she didn't date otherwise. Her job tended to intimidate a lot of guys (who apparently didn't like knowing that their date could probably beat them up) and anyway, her work schedule meant that there wasn't room in her life for a real relationship right now.

And she wasn't sure she was really cut out for a real relationship at all, ever. Not with the darkness and death that made up such a large part of her life. Not with her single-minded focus on her job, on becoming a detective and proving herself and then reopening her mother's case so she could finally get justice for her mother. And at the very least, although Kate refused to think it in so many words, maybe, maybe even if she couldn't solve her mother's murder, she might find some peace if she managed to put enough killers away to atone for that one failure.

No, there was no room in her life for a relationship. Not much leisure time of any sort at all, frankly. Which was sort of Lanie's point. Not that she was going to tell Lanie so.

She read Castle's books for fun. (She had another sense of fleeting unreality. She'd had dinner with Richard Castle, was going to be having dinner with him and his daughter in just a few days. Holy shit.)

So maybe her life was quiet and a little boring—but she liked it that way! She had to deal with quite enough insanity and noise and stress at work.

"Oh, leave off, Lanie," Kate huffed. "I like my life the way it is. I'm tired after work so I just want some peace and quiet."

"You know what they say about all work and no play," Lanie persisted.

"And if you must know, I'm going to be having dinner with Castle and his daughter on Tuesday and that's certainly socializing with people from outside work," Kate finished, a little exasperated.

"You're what? Kate Beckett!"

Ridiculously, Kate felt herself flush at Lanie's tone, why she didn't know. "It was Alexis's suggestion," she quickly added. "Apparently Alexis wants to get to know me better." She didn't feel like explaining the whole story about what had happened at the Park.

"I guess you have a fan." Lanie sounded a little amused now.

Kate relaxed and laughed a little. "I don't know about that; it might just be curiosity but Alexis is a cute kid and I don't like the idea of disappointing her."

"Mm hmm. Well, watch out, Beckett, if this one dinner leads to more. Castle has a girlfriend, as you say, and if you start getting too cozy with his daughter, things could get messy."

"That isn't going to happen," Kate vowed, devoutly believing that it was true. "It's just one dinner, not like I'm signing up to babysit Alexis or anything. I might never even see either of them again after this one dinner. And even if I do, Castle and I will just be friends, just like with me and Repczynski or Jackson," she added, naming two of the other uniforms in the precinct who she knew the best because she'd been in the Academy with them. Besides, she didn't have room in her life for a relationship right now. And since she knew he had a girlfriend and he knew she knew he had a girlfriend, clearly nothing was going to happen. Lanie was just being alarmist. And anyway, she rather liked knowing that Castle wasn't about to hit on her and wasn't trying to get into her pants.

"If you say so, Beckett."

Lanie didn't sound entirely convinced but Kate ignored the thread of skepticism in Lanie's tone and changed the subject to ask about what had gotten Lanie called out of their dinner.

She and Castle could be friends. That was all and there was nothing to be concerned about in that.

* * *

The next evening, Kate stiffened and inwardly steeled herself when she saw that it was her dad calling. She let out a steadying breath and then forcibly modulated her tone to blandness before she answered. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Katie. It's dad," her dad announced unnecessarily. As if he wasn't the only person alive who called her Katie. Her heart hurt a little.

There was a brief, awkward pause while she wondered desperately what she should say and then finally blurted, "So how are you, Dad?" her question overlapping with his, "Have you had your dinner?"

They both broke off and then she answered, with a glance at the Chinese take-out boxes sitting on the table, "Yeah, I just finished eating."

"Good. Good." He sounded just a touch too hearty and she pictured him nodding repeatedly for too long. He paused and then he added quickly, "I'm finishing up with rehab, Katie. I'll be able to go home on Saturday. I was thinking maybe we could have dinner together. If you're free and don't have to work," he added hurriedly and rather diffidently.

She forced enthusiasm into her voice. "That's great, Dad, and of course I can have dinner on Saturday." She might need to rearrange her shift a little so she wouldn't get called out but she could talk to Captain Montgomery, who would understand. Her dad was done with rehab and maybe, just maybe, this time, his sobriety would last. The rehab program had been intense, a live-in program for 60 days, and her dad had told her that he needed to do this on his own. That had to mean something, right? That he was taking such responsibility for his recovery? It was a good thing, right?

Another thought occurred to her. "Wait, Dad, how will you be getting back to the City on Saturday? I can come pick you up."

"Oh, no, Katie, I can just take the train back into town. Don't worry about it. I don't want to bother you."

"It's no trouble, Dad," she assured him swiftly. "I'll just come pick you up so you don't need to bother with the hassle of taking the train."

Her dad hesitated. "You really don't need to, Katie. The train is fine."

He really wasn't comfortable with asking anything of her, she realized a little belatedly. Even his dinner invitation had been diffident, as if he wasn't sure she would agree. Her heart twisted a little.

"I'll come pick you up, Dad. It really is no trouble. I'm only working a half-day on Saturday anyway," she added mendaciously. She would need to switch shifts with someone. Being a weekend shift, she didn't have to go into the precinct but she was on call to be called to a crime scene if a body dropped so she needed to stay available, which precluded leaving Manhattan. She would have to work it out with Captain Montgomery but she was sure that Captain Montgomery would understand. He knew about her father's troubles and had always been good about letting Kate leave her shift early or otherwise rearrange her schedule because of her dad. Just as Captain Montgomery was known for being understanding when cops with kids had issues and needed to rearrange their shifts accordingly. It was one of the things that made Captain Montgomery so good at his job and made everyone in the precinct so loyal to him. Not only because he was a good cop and a fair one but because he never forgot that cops had lives outside of work and tried to be understanding. As long as people did the work and put in their time, he generally didn't mind some minor rearranging of shifts.

"If you're sure, Katie."

"I'm sure," she answered definitely. "I'll let you know when I finish my shift and get on my way."

"Okay but if anything comes up, call me and I really can just take the train in," her dad assured her, yet again. "I know—I know you're busy with work and I don't want to bother you or be a burden."

"You're not a burden, Dad. Of course I'll come pick you up," she asserted quickly without even thinking about it and only wondered afterwards a little sickly how truthful the reassurance really was. It had been… easier… these last weeks of knowing her dad was at the rehab facility and not even in the city. She had to admit that. Did it mean her dad was a burden? She didn't know, flinched away from the term, but in some corner of her mind, had to admit that there was some truth to it.

"Well, thank you, Katie. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Dad."

Another pause ensued, the brief silence humming over the line, and then her dad rather awkwardly said, "I guess I'll see you on Saturday then."

"See you on Saturday."

She waited and heard her dad's brief sigh before he ended the call.

And Kate sighed in her turn as she put her phone down. Talking to her dad was always so hard. She hated the awkwardness of it, the difficulty of it, but couldn't avoid it or help it. She had trained herself to be so careful in talking to him, trying not to upset him. It made talking to her dad, seeing her dad, so stressful that there were times she found herself wishing she could just stop—but he was her _dad_. She _couldn't_ abandon him, not completely. All she could do, all she had done, was stop trying to save him, stop enabling him by protecting him from the consequences of his drunkenness. She still talked to her dad, visited her dad in these last couple years, but only if he was sober at the time. If he called her (or she called him) when he was drinking, she hung up on him and if she visited to find him drunk, she left. Which meant that she could count on her two hands the number of times she'd actually spent more than minute or two in her dad's presence in the last year and more. She no longer stayed and waited, no longer cleaned up after him. And in the interludes when he was sober, she was always carefully cheerful, encouraging. She'd stopped trying to save him but she also couldn't simply abandon him or stop talking to him entirely. For her mom's sake, if nothing else. She remembered the way her mom had always made her dad's coffee for him, even though her mom had preferred tea and rarely drank coffee. Remembered her mom picking out her dad's ties for him, remembered all the myriad little ways in which her mom, as busy as she had been, had been her dad's helpmeet and support.

Her mom wasn't there so it was up to her to look after her dad. And he was the only family she had left, really. She wasn't close to her Aunt Theresa and she and her cousins were too far apart in age to really be close.

She had no one else. There was only her dad. So she needed to be there for him. And it didn't matter if it was hard or stressful. He was family and you didn't abandon your family.

At least he was sober. For now.

He had voluntarily checked himself into the rehab facility after he'd been released from the hospital after his sprained ankle, concussion, and various other cuts and bruises from his fall. That was a first. Before, he had sporadically gone to a few AA meetings but the meetings hadn't been effective in making him stay sober. He would go and promise to stay sober—and then he would drink. After a few days or week or ten days or two weeks. So many promises, all of them broken.

She hoped the rehab facility with the 24-hour supervision and counseling would be more effective—but even there, she didn't know if she believed it. If she dared to hope at all. Because at the rehab facility, he hadn't had access to alcohol so there'd been no temptation. Once he was back in the City, it would once again be up to him. She couldn't watch her father 24 hours a day. Her dad had to be the one to make the commitment and stick to it. It had taken months of counseling before she had finally, reluctantly accepted the cold, stark fact that her dad's problem wasn't her fault and it wasn't her responsibility to make him stop and she couldn't save him. She could—she would—support him, encourage him, but in the end, she couldn't save him.

It had been two months since her dad had been in rehab. Two months, the longest he'd managed to stay sober.

She just wished she could believe it would really last.

The only good thing—such as it was—was that if it weren't going to last, she thought, she'd find out soon enough. Because Christmas was coming up in a matter of weeks and after that, The Anniversary, the hardest day of the year. If— _if_ —her dad stayed sober through The Anniversary, then maybe, maybe, she could begin to believe.

Maybe then she could start to hope.

Maybe…

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Sorry for the Castle-less chapter. I'm going to be travelling next week so unable to post. Apologies in advance for the longer than usual wait until the next chapter. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Apologies for the wait. I hope everyone in the U.S. had a happy 4th of July. And now without further ado, here's the next chapter, featuring Kate's dinner with Castle and Alexis.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 6_

Kate changed out of her uniform in the precinct locker room. She wasn't about to go out to dinner while still in her uniform. She'd learned the hard way that wearing her uniform out and about when she wasn't on shift tended to garner too much attention, most of it not good, and it especially had a tendency to make wait staff and other employees nervous, the only exception being at cop bars.

Besides which she had no idea how formal or not the restaurant she would be meeting Castle and Alexis at was. Castle had texted her the restaurant name and address but hadn't mentioned anything about a dress code so she had no idea if it would turn out to be a relatively formal place where jeans would look out of place. And Castle was certainly rich enough that he probably spent most of his life going to restaurants she couldn't afford to go to if she saved for a year. So to be safe, she'd decided against wearing jeans. Instead she had brought a good pair of slacks and a button down to change into.

Once she had changed, she made her way out of the locker room, arriving at the elevator at almost the same moment as Captain Montgomery.

He raised his eyebrows a little as he saw her. "Leaving already, Beckett?"

She felt herself flushing a little. Her shift was over but of course, when did she ever leave at the end of her shift? "Yes, sir, but I'll be in early tomorrow morning."

A faint smile softened Captain Montgomery's expression. "At ease, Officer, I wasn't questioning your dedication. I was only surprised because I think this is the first time you've left at the end of your shift since you started in Homicide."

"I couldn't say, sir," she responded. She thought it was true but couldn't be sure. Of course there had been times when she'd needed to rearrange her shifts, as she had for this Saturday, because of her dad but otherwise, she worked, coming in early and leaving late.

"I can say so and I'm fairly certain I'm correct. Detectives Hassan and Scanlon have both mentioned it to me."

Kate felt a flutter of optimism; the fact that both Hassan and Scanlon had mentioned her long hours to the Captain was a good sign, she was sure. She would need a good word from them to make it as a detective. Captain Montgomery's recommendation alone wouldn't be enough because the higher-ups at One PP had enough sense to believe that the detectives on the ground, as it were, would know better than the Captain, who no matter how much he tried to take on an active role in mentoring her, was necessarily busy and absent a lot of the time dealing with other cops and the administrative side of things. But she didn't show her emotion. "I'm only trying to do my job, Captain."

Montgomery gave her an appraising sort of look. "From what I can tell, Beckett, your job is all you do aside from looking after your father."

"Captain?" She wasn't quite sure where he was going with this.

"I'm just saying, you're allowed to have a life outside of work. You should have a life outside of work. It's a stressful job, Beckett, so it's good to have some balance."

"I'll keep that in mind, Captain," she answered dutifully but noncommittally. She appreciated the Captain's good intentions but she couldn't help but think that it was easy for him to say such things. Captain Montgomery's marriage was famously happy, a thing almost of legend in the precinct because it was not the norm. It was hard for a cop to be in a long-term happy relationship, not least because the danger inherent in the job tended to be too much stress for many people, and the irregular hours didn't help.

The elevator door opened and they both stepped out, he to head to his car while she turned in the direction of the subway.

"Have a good night, Beckett." The Captain lifted a hand in farewell.

"Yes, sir. You too, sir."

The restaurant Castle had chosen for dinner was a short subway ride from the precinct and Kate spent the few minutes telling herself that she would be absolutely fine seeing more of Castle's and Alexis's close relationship. She was an adult, to say nothing of a cop, and she could be calm and rational and witness a good father-daughter relationship with equanimity. It wasn't like Castle's relationship with his daughter had anything at all to do with her own relationship with her dad. Really, she'd be fine.

Or so she told herself as she walked down the street, keeping an eye out for this Mirabelli's.

"Kate!"

Kate stopped and turned at the sound of her name to see Castle and Alexis walking towards her, Alexis waving excitedly and Kate found herself smiling automatically just at the sight of the little girl.

"Hi, Kate!" Alexis greeted her with an enthusiasm that rather threw Kate for a loop. Did all kids greet people so exuberantly? She'd only met Alexis once but from the way Alexis was greeting her, she might have been an old friend.

"Hi, Alexis, Castle."

"Kate, fancy meeting you here," Castle quipped.

Alexis gave a funny little huff that might have been the beginnings of a laugh. "Silly Daddy. Don't mind him," she added, addressing Kate. "He likes to be silly a lot."

Kate laughed, relaxing almost in spite of herself. "So I see." It was hard to worry over anything when faced with Alexis's bright smile. And if she tried not to look at the way Alexis's hand was clasped so securely in Castle's, it didn't even bother her, much. She ignored the little tug of melancholy at the hazy memories of holding her dad's hand when she'd been around Alexis's age. Nope, not thinking about it. And she was fine, really.

Castle bridled in mock offense. "Hey! Stop making me look bad, Alexis."

Alexis giggled. "I only said you're silly and you are, Daddy."

Kate managed a grin at Castle, falling easily into teasing him. "I think she's got you there."

Castle huffed. "Oh, so that's how it's going to be, you taking Alexis's side?"

"When Alexis is right, sure."

He made a face and then his attention was pulled away as Alexis tugged on his hand. "Daddy, come on. We're almost at Mirabelli's."

He went, pasting on a beleaguered expression as he pretended to be dragged by Alexis who was powering on ahead.

Kate suppressed a laugh. "I take it you two have been to this Mirabelli's before."

"How'd you guess?" he joked and then answered, "We've been coming here for years and the owners have become friends."

"Alexis seems excited."

He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "It's been a couple months since we've been here."

On the words, Kate saw the sign for Mirabelli's just ahead and then they were there. The sight of the sign itself was reassuring because it was very simple, unostentatious, the sort of thing that might have been overlooked if she hadn't been specifically paying attention. And it spoke volumes for the sort of restaurant Mirabelli's was. She found herself relaxing yet further. It was a small family-owned place, casual and easily welcoming, and she liked it immediately. It looked warm and friendly, the décor simple with pictures of Rome on the walls. There were maybe a dozen tables, most of which were filled with families.

And she found she liked Castle more for suggesting a place like this. With his money, he could spend all his days going to super-expensive, formal places, but he hadn't chosen that sort of place that would have made her feel out of place. He might be a multi-millionaire but he wasn't pretentious or arrogant about it.

They were greeted by a waiter who led them to a table towards the back but before they'd reached it, a middle-aged man with a tendency to embonpoint bustled through the double doors that must lead to the kitchen and immediately, his face lit up with a beaming smile. "Ricky! And little Alexis! It's been way too long!"

He turned to poke his head through the doors and they all heard him addressing someone. "Maria, Ricky and little Alexis are here."

The man didn't wait for this Maria he had called out to but immediately turned and came straight to them, clapping a genial hand on Castle's shoulder. "Ricky, you've finally come back to see us, eh?"

Castle grinned as he shook the man's hand. "It's been a busy couple months. It's good to see you too, Gianni."

Gianni turned to Alexis next, feigning surprise. "Little Alexis, you're getting so tall! Soon you'll be getting to be taller than me."

Alexis beamed. "I've grown an inch since we last came here."

"No, really, I think it's more than an inch." Gianni directed a friendly smile to Kate. "Now, Ricky, is this your girlfriend?"

"No, no, Gianni, this is Kate, a friend of mine. Kate, Gianni."

Kate found her hand enveloped in Gianni's large one as he pumped her hand a few times. "Ah well, I thought you were too pretty for Ricky over here. Welcome to Mirabelli's."

Kate smiled even as she felt the lingering heat in her cheeks from Gianni's question. "It's nice to meet you, Gianni."

A short, plump middle-aged woman came through the double doors from the kitchen and her face too lit up with delight as she saw Castle and Alexis. "Ricky and Alexis!"

She hurried over to the table where she pulled Castle down into a hug and then bestowed two kisses, one on each cheek, in European fashion. Castle almost towered over the woman but he bent down into the hug, smiling warmly. "It's great to see you, Maria. You're looking well."

Maria flapped a dismissive hand. "Eh, I am getting older." She turned to beam at Alexis, also pulling the girl into a hug and giving her a squeeze before she drew back to cup Alexis's cheek in her hand. "And you, little Alexis, look how big and pretty you're getting! Is it time for you to go to high school yet?"

Alexis giggled. "I'm 9 now."

Maria feigned shock. "No, really, only 9? You are looking too tall to be 9." Maria turned her friendly smile to Kate. "Now, Ricky, who is your pretty friend?"

"This is Kate," Alexis answered instead.

Maria grasped Kate's hand and shook it heartily. "Well, any friend of Ricky's is welcome here anytime."

Kate smiled, unable to resist the open-hearted welcomes from both Gianni and Maria. And she couldn't help but think that it spoke well of Castle to be on such good terms with them. Such relationships with restaurant owners didn't happen easily in New York, it being such a big city, but Castle appeared to have managed it, without a sense of snobbery at the fact that most people as rich as Castle was wouldn't eat at a place as small and family-owned as Mirabelli's and certainly not regularly.

"How is Peter doing?" Castle queried of Maria, joining the conversation almost as if to underscore his personal closeness to Gianni and Maria.

Maria's face lit up. "Oh, that Pietro, he is a worry. He is graduating next year but now he is saying he likes French cooking better." She scoffed and then went on, relating a number of stories about this Pietro, who was, Kate deduced, her son and in cooking school. Her words spoke of worry and disappointment but her tone was proud and Kate had to suppress a smile. Whatever else, it was quite clear that Maria doted on her son.

Castle listened with interest, making some comments, and more surprising to Kate, Alexis listened and asked some questions too. From her limited knowledge of childhood, she thought it was unusual of Alexis to display so much interest in "grown-up talk," as it were, about someone else, even if the someone else was known to the child but Alexis didn't seem to think anything of it.

During this conversation, Gianni disappeared behind the double doors leading to the kitchen and reappeared bearing a basket of breadsticks, still warm from the oven, that he set out on the table.

His reappearance appeared to jolt Maria into a realization that they were all still standing by their table and she immediately shooed them to sit down. Alexis slid into a chair on the other side of the table from Castle, a natural consequence of Alexis being used to eating with just the two of them, leaving Kate to opt to sit next to Castle, the side facing the door out of habit.

"Oh but just listen to me going on and you too polite to tell me to stop talking," Maria fussed.

"Oh no, really, it's fine," Kate hurriedly assured her. "It sounds like you should be proud of Peter."

"Proud, bah," she dismissed, although the words were belied by her expression that was, yes, proud and fond too. "You are very nice to say so. But now you must decide what you want to eat and we will make it for you."

"Sorry about that," Castle said after Maria had bustled away. "We didn't mean to ignore you like that."

"No, it's all right. I understand. Gianni and Maria seem great and it sounds like you've known them for a while."

"Gianni and Maria are great," Alexis confirmed. "And Peter is really nice."

"Yeah, he's a good kid," Castle confirmed. "And quite a cook already. As you've probably guessed, he's in his last year of cooking school up at the Johnson & Wales Culinary school in Rhode Island and he comes back during the summers to help out here."

"How did you get to know Gianni and Maria?" Kate asked as she opened up her menu.

"I fell and scraped my knee outside," Alexis explained. "And Gianni saw it and he was really nice and gave me a free ice cream."

"Yeah, what she said," Castle added with a grin and then explained, "He let us use the bathroom here to clean off Alexis's knee and gave us a bandaid and then he gave Alexis a free bowl of gelato since she was crying. So we came back to say thanks and well, we just kept coming back."

"That sounds nice," Kate smiled. "I take it their gelato is good."

Alexis nodded emphatically. "Uh huh, their ice cream is really yummy. I always order it when we come."

"Well, then, I guess I'll have to try some too."

"Okay so gelato for your dinner, Kate. I guess you're all set," Castle joked.

"Daddy!" Alexis protested. "Kate can't have ice cream for dinner. You never let me have ice cream for dinner!"

"But Kate's a grown-up and I can't tell her what to do so if she wants ice cream for dinner, she can have it," Castle explained with exaggerated seriousness. He turned his head to look at Kate and gave her a quick wink with the eye that was facing away from Alexis.

Kate bit back a laugh and only smiled at Alexis. "You're right, Alexis, I can't have just ice cream for dinner."

"See, Daddy, Kate says I'm right!"

"Kate's just being nice," Castle responded.

"Kate is nice but that still doesn't mean she can have ice cream for dinner," Alexis persisted.

Kate had to laugh now. "Thank you, Alexis. You've convinced me, I'll have a real dinner and then have ice cream for dessert. What do you think I should order, Alexis? I've never been here before so I don't know what's good."

Fortunately, that distracted Alexis from the subject of ice cream and conversation turned to the other items on the menu. Kate found herself having to bite back more laughter at the seriousness with which Alexis discussed the relative merits of lasagna or spaghetti or chicken parmesan. Castle made a couple other suggestions but for the most part, seemed perfectly willing to let Alexis do most of the talking.

They ordered in due course, Kate opting to accept Alexis's suggestion of lasagna which had the girl beaming, and then Alexis fixed her eyes on Kate. "Kate, Daddy said you're a police officer. I think that's so neat!"

Kate shot an amused look at Castle. "I can see where Alexis gets it," she quipped.

"She's a chip off the old block," Castle proclaimed with poorly-concealed pride.

"That's what Daddy always says," Alexis chimed in, "but Grams says that I'm better behaved than Daddy ever was."

Kate laughed. "I'm sure you are."

"Hey!" Castle protested. "Alexis, that's not fair, to tell tales about me in front of Kate."

"I'm not tattle-telling, Daddy, I'm only saying what Grams said."

"Hmph," Castle pretended to grumble. "Remind me to have words with Grams next time we see her. I was a model boy when I was growing up."

"I'm sure you were," Kate quipped. "'The very model of a modern major general in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral.'"

Castle looked startled and then delighted. "You can quote Gilbert and Sullivan too? I knew we'd get along."

Kate laughed. "Thanks, I think."

"Say, Kate," Alexis spoke up. "Why aren't you wearing your uniform? I wanted to see it."

"Well," Kate temporized slowly, wondering how to explain such things as why people might be wary around cops, "I don't usually wear my uniform when I'm not working. Do you think you can guess why?" she asked on sudden inspiration.

Alexis scrunched up her nose and tipped her head to one side in an expression of intense concentration. She thought for a minute before venturing, "Because some people might get nervous when they see a police officer?"

Kate smiled. "Yes, that's it. How did you guess?"

"It's like kids sometimes get nervous around teachers because they know that teachers can get them into trouble. And police officers can get even grown-ups in trouble."

"Very good, Alexis." Kate didn't need to pretend being impressed. "I knew you were smart."

Alexis looked delighted. "I'm right? Oh, goody!"

"You're exactly right, Alexis. Now, I may not be wearing my uniform but I do have my police badge with me. Do you want to see it?" Kate offered. (She also had her gun with her, of course, but she wasn't about to show Alexis that.)

Unsurprisingly, Alexis nodded eagerly and Kate unclipped her badge from her belt and handed it to Alexis, who accepted it with almost as much wonder in her eyes as if she'd just been handed the crown jewels.

"May I see it too?" Castle asked, sounding only marginally less eager than Alexis to Kate's amusement. (He really was like an overgrown kid sometimes, wasn't he?)

Alexis looked to Kate. "Can Daddy look at your badge too?"

Kate smiled at the girl. "Of course he can."

Alexis studied the badge for another few seconds before passing it to Castle, who grinned. "This is so cool!"

"What does the number on the badge mean?" Alexis asked as Castle handed the badge back to Kate.

"It's my badge number. Every police officer has one so it's like an ID number."

"What kind of police officer are you? I mean, like what sort of cases—is that the right word—do you work on, Kate?"

She really was Castle's daughter. "I work in homicide," Kate answered automatically and then wondered if a 9-year-old would know the word, and quickly added, "so I help detectives catch killers."

"Like in Daddy's books!"

Kate blinked. "You've read your dad's books?" Castle's books might not be very explicit about either sex or violence for the most part but they weren't exactly kid-friendly in the subject matter or the language used either.

Alexis's expression transformed into what could only be described as a pout. "No, Daddy won't let me," she huffed disgruntledly. "He says I can't read his books until I'm 12 and a half."

Kate let out a little gurgle of surprised laughter, turning to quirk her eyebrows at Castle. "12 and a half?" she repeated, a slight emphasis on the last two words. God, how long had it been since she'd heard anyone talk about age in terms of fractions? It was such a little kid thing to do.

He made a self-deprecating face. "That was a compromise. If I had my way, I wouldn't want Alexis to know anything about violence and murder until she was 18 or never but that wasn't an option so I settled on 13 and she wheedled me down to making it 12 and a half."

"That eager to read your dad's books, huh, Alexis?" Kate asked.

Alexis nodded vigorously. "Of course."

Kate allowed herself a faint smirk for Castle's benefit as she went on lightly, "But what if you don't like your dad's books?"

"I'll like them," Alexis answered confidently. "Daddy always tells great stories."

"Thank you, sweetie," Castle interjected with more real sincerity and humility in his tone than Kate had expected given his joking tendencies. But then she supposed Alexis's opinion meant more to him than anyone else's, as much as he clearly adored his daughter.

It was on the tip of Kate's tongue to make some quip about Alexis being too biased for her opinion to be trusted but she bit it back. Castle could laugh at himself but it didn't seem quite fair to do so in front of his little daughter.

"Have you read Daddy's books, Kate?"

"I've read a few of them," Kate answered blandly. She was not going to admit in front of Castle that she'd read all of his books and had already pre-ordered _Storm's Last Stand_ that was going to be published in January. Not admitting how much she liked his books now, probably not ever.

"Did you like them, Kate?"

Castle turned to Kate, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Yes, tell me, did you like my books?"

Kate shot him a quick repressive look and answered as neutrally as possible, "I thought some of them were better than others." Which had the added benefit of being the truth.

Castle inclined his head a little. "Okay, I'll admit that. Can I ask, what did you think of _Hell Hath No Fury_?"

The faint hint of a smirk was tugging at his lips and she could already tell that he was up to something by asking her this. There was a trick in there somewhere but she couldn't for the life of her imagine what. She racked her brain but after a moment, gave up and answered, diplomatically, "It wasn't one of your better efforts."

He gave a crack of delighted laughter. "Ha! I knew you were a bigger fan than you wanted to admit!"

"I—what?" she asked, fighting back a blush. Damn it.

He raised his eyebrows at her, smirking. "Angry Wiccans out for blood? Only my hard-core fans read that one. I think it only sold something like 20 copies."

She felt herself color. Damn it, she had given herself away. "I was bored and I saw it in the library one day," she defended. Not technically untrue since she had seen it in the library; she neglected to mention that she'd already bought a copy. "And I thought it was pretty terrible," she added quickly.

The sound of Alexis's giggle distracted them both. "Daddy, you've said yourself that you thought _Hell Hath No Fury_ was your worst book. I heard you."

It was Kate's turn to laugh and Castle's to look chagrined. "Thanks, Alexis," he said dryly. "Good to know you're on my side."

Alexis gave him a look of exaggerated innocence. "But you always say that I should always tell the truth and that is the truth."

Kate grinned at Castle. "By my count, I think the score tonight is Alexis: 2, Castle: 0."

He huffed. "It's not fair to have two of you ganging up on me."

"Grams always says girls should stick together," Alexis informed him.

Kate smiled at Alexis, giving Alexis a high-five. "Your grandmother's right, girls should stick together."

"Against their own father, too, apparently," Castle huffed, pulling a ridiculously exaggerated pout.

"Careful, Daddy, or your face might stick like that," Alexis warned him with an impish grin.

Castle's pout dissolved on a laugh and he reached over to tug a lock of Alexis's hair teasingly. "All right, pumpkin, you're too clever for me."

Kate couldn't help but smile at the interaction between the two of them (and if she felt a little tug on her heart—well, she was ignoring it). Alexis's precociousness was irresistible and Castle's obvious adoration of his daughter endearing.

Alexis turned her smile to Kate. "Daddy likes to be silly, don't mind him, Kate. But I still want to know, is your job like Daddy's books?"

Castle turned to Kate with a rather droll expression. "I suppose it's a little late to warn you that Alexis can be as tenacious as they come so when she wants to know something, she won't be easily distracted from her purpose."

Kate managed a quick smile. "I don't mind," and then added teasingly, "I came prepared after the way you grilled me last time."

He laughed. "I'd say I was sorry but I think we both know I'd be lying."

She gave him a quick grin and then sobered as she returned her attention to Alexis, wondering how and what she could say about her job to Alexis without it getting to be too much, too dark, for a girl her age. "Well, it's not exactly like your dad's books," Kate began slowly. "I'm not a detective, just an officer, so that means that I help the detectives by trying to find evidence for them at crime scenes and asking people if they've seen anything that might help the detectives figure out what happened."

"So you find clues like if the killer dropped a glove?"

"Yes, exactly."

"You're like Nancy Drew, only in real life. That is so cool, Kate!" Alexis enthused.

Kate smiled. Yup, definitely Castle's daughter. "I guess I am. I hadn't thought about it like that. I liked the Nancy Drew books too when I was your age."

"Do you like your job, Kate? Is it hard?"

"It can be hard but yes, I like it," Kate answered simply and left it at that.

"Most cops are boys, though, aren't they, Kate? I didn't even know until now that there were girl cops. Do the other cops treat you like you're just as good as they are?"

Kate blinked. She hadn't been expecting Alexis to ask that sort of question, although she inwardly frowned a little at the thought of what experiences the little girl had that would lead her to have such an awareness of gender equality issues. "Most cops are men, yes, but they mostly care about doing the job right so if you prove yourself, it's okay," Kate answered carefully. It wasn't strictly true but Kate wasn't about to get into the various ways it was hard to be a woman in a male-dominated profession.

Alexis nodded. "That's good. One of the boys in my class likes to say that girls aren't as smart as boys are."

Castle frowned. "Which boy?"

"Billy."

"Hmm. What did you say to Billy?"

"I told him he was wrong, that girls were just as smart as boys, and I said that you told me so," Alexis smiled at Castle quite sunnily. "And then after that, I got that 97 on the math test and Billy got a 92 so he couldn't say anything after that."

Kate couldn't help but laugh. "Good for you, Alexis."

"That's my girl, pumpkin," Castle said approvingly, so much love and pride in his voice and his expression that Kate felt her throat tighten with emotion. She could deal with being mostly alone, had gotten used to it even, but it still hurt to think about the way her dad had reacted to her telling him she was going to become a cop, the argument they'd had. She normally pushed the memory from her mind but the stark contrast with Castle's expression now brought the hurt back. In spite of everything, she still wanted her dad to be proud of her.

She didn't have that. And Alexis so obviously did. She knew—she _knew_ —it wasn't fair to compare like this but she couldn't help the sharp stab of loss and longing.

Thankfully for Kate's composure, their food arrived then, providing a welcome distraction and a break in the conversation.

Kate took her first bite of lasagna and her eyes fluttered closed of their own volition. It was… delicious, undoubtedly the best lasagna she'd had.

"Good, isn't it?" Castle asked.

"It's wonderful," she smiled at him. "I can see why you and Alexis keep coming back."

Alexis had been twirling her fork in her spaghetti with a concentration most people reserved for making masterpieces of art but she looked up at that. "The lasagna here is good but I think Daddy makes the best lasagna. If you like lasagna, you should come over sometime and have Daddy make it for you."

Kate momentarily froze, thrown at the ease at which Alexis had issued the invitation. As if she was an old friend and not someone Alexis had only met once before. Were all kids so friendly? And how was this even happening, that now she was being invited to go over to _Richard Castle's_ place by his kid?

She darted a quick look up at Castle, who looked fleetingly discomfited, but then he pasted on an easy smile. "Ah, well, Kate does have to work, you know, Alexis. She's busy but if she has time, of course she's welcome to come over."

He was treading carefully and he was, of course, being polite, but he flashed a glance at her and—oh—he did mean it too. He was inviting her over to have dinner with him and his daughter. At his house.

Oh shit.

She couldn't. She really couldn't. She… was trying her hardest to be made a detective in the next six months, which didn't leave a lot of time for a personal life. Plus she was no sort of person to have around a kid; she spent her days dealing with criminals and seeing the seediest, worst parts of humanity. Her life was too dark and she was too… damaged, too complicated. She didn't know what was up with Rick Castle that he appeared to have little to no reservations about allowing her into his daughter's life and sure, spending time with him and Alexis so far had been fun—more fun than she'd had in months, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lanie inserted—but someone like her, with her darkness and her single-minded obsession, didn't belong in their lives.

Thankfully, he'd given her an out with mentioning her work and it had the benefit of being true. she opened her mouth to politely demur—but instead heard her voice saying, "Thanks, Alexis, that sounds nice, I'd like that."

Shit—why—she hadn't meant to—

Her discombobulated thoughts were cut short by the brightness of Alexis's smile. "That would be great, Kate!" And then the girl giggled. "Hey, that rhymed!"

Oh damn. Kate's plan to try to back out of her inadvertent acceptance of the invitation died on her lips. How was she supposed to say something that would dim the little girl's smile? And she abruptly remembered what Castle had told her the day they'd met—that Alexis's mother had promised to visit for Thanksgiving and then backed out. It wasn't the same, of course it wasn't, but she couldn't do that, back out of a commitment she'd made for no good reason.

It was the blue eyes, she decided, Alexis's bright blue eyes that made it impossible to say no to her.

"Just let me check my work schedule and I'll let you know when," Kate offered, giving into the inevitable.

"Okay!" Alexis agreed happily. "Now let's eat."

"Yes, ma'am," Kate laughed.

And eat they did. The food was great and Castle again let Alexis do most of the talking, with only a few comments and questions to nudge the girl along in a very mild, subtle form of parental interrogation, Kate realized. Not that much encouragement was necessary; Alexis seemed very ready to talk, keeping up a fairly steady stream of prattle about school and her friends and the books she'd read lately. It was nice and… fun, in a way that felt so foreign from Kate's usual life. (It occurred to her that this was pathetic.) It was almost certainly the most enjoyable dinner she'd had in a while, what with the delicious food and the good service (with Gianni and Maria both returning at separate times to check on them and urge them to eat more) and the company. Alexis was a dear, combining childishness with precociousness in a way that was undeniably charming and, well, if the way Castle interacted with Alexis gave her the occasional pang, she wasn't about to admit it. Because it would be stupid and petty and irrational to make comparisons. And anyway it was different because Alexis was a _child_ and Kate was a grown-up and a cop and she didn't need anyone, not even her dad, to take care of her. She could take care of herself and she was just fine. So there was no reason to feel a pang of anything in seeing the way Castle treated Alexis. See, there, she was just fine and it wasn't the same _at all_.

And the occasional pang (that she wasn't admitting to) aside, dinner was pleasant, enjoyable, with great food and good company, and Kate couldn't help but think it might have been the most enjoyable meal she'd had since… oh, possibly that last dinner at Remy's with Lanie and Castle. So maybe she could really do this, just have a nice meal with Rick Castle and his kid, even go over to his place—oh god—and have a pleasant conversation that didn't relate to death or crime in some way. A glimpse into the normal life that wasn't hers.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, or added this fic to their favorites.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Not the happiest of chapters but it's a necessary one.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 7_

She wasn't nervous.

She wasn't nervous, Kate told herself for approximately the millionth time in the last hour or so. There was nothing to be nervous about. Really, there wasn't.

And she _wasn't_ nervous.

Today was a good day, a happy occasion. It was. She should be—she _was_ —glad that her dad was finishing up his rehab and coming home again. That was a good thing. Hadn't she wanted her dad to be sober for the last five years now? Of course she had. So this was what she'd wanted and she should be happy about it.

See, there, it was all good and she was fine and not nervous at all.

But then, just as had happened the last time (or thousandth time) she'd reached this point in her ongoing mental pep talk, another voice spoke up wondering just how long her dad's sobriety would last this time.

She sighed. That was really it. Of course she was pleased that her dad was sober but if the last five years had taught her anything, it was that her dad's sobriety didn't last. It never had before. She no longer remembered, had stopped counting long ago, how many times her dad had told her that he was sober and he didn't have a problem and he wouldn't be drinking again.

And then he would.

So many broken promises, so many relapses. She'd tried reasoning with him, tried simply asking, arguing, even fighting with him (although her dad wasn't a belligerent drunk and yelling at someone who was sobbing had been miserable and she'd given it up quickly). She'd tried cajoling and outright begging and pleading. She'd taken a week she could ill afford to take off from work simply so she could babysit her father and keep him from drinking but once the week was over, she'd needed to return to work and her father had relapsed again.

And so she'd stopped trying, finally, painfully. She'd stopped going to get him out after he was picked up for public intoxication, just left him in the drunk tank to sleep it off. She had even left him in the hospital after he'd tripped and sprained his ankle and once she'd been assured that he wasn't seriously injured and would make a full recovery, she hadn't returned. She wasn't even sure who had gone to get him when he was discharged and it was possible that the hospital had somehow insisted that he go to rehab afterwards. She didn't know. All she knew was that it was after that her dad had called to tell her he was going into rehab and he would see her when he got out.

That had been two months ago.

It was, at least, the longest time he'd managed to stay sober and he'd always resisted the idea of going to rehab before.

And yet, she still didn't—couldn't—let herself believe he would stay sober. But now that he was trying, she had to be there, to encourage him, support him. As long as he was trying, as long as he was sober, she would be there but she had finally accepted that she couldn't save him. Couldn't save someone who didn't want to be saved.

She would take it one day at a time. It was all she could do. No expectations, no hope, just one day at a time.

She took a breath, swiping at her cheeks and realizing belatedly that they were wet—oh crap, when had she started crying?—as she took the highway exit she needed. No more tears, they did no good. She sternly controlled her breathing and tried to corral her emotions as she did so.

It wasn't long before she was pulling into the parking lot of the rehab facility. Kate took a quick moment to check her face in the mirror, making sure any telltale evidence of tears or any upset at all was gone and even applied some lipstick to add color to her face. That done, she steeled herself and exited her car.

She paused at the door to manufacture a smile and put it on, only for the smile and her steps to immediately falter as she stepped inside and saw her dad.

He looked… oh, he looked… good. He looked like her _dad_ again, the one she remembered from high school and childhood. The sight of him hit her squarely in the heart and for a split second, she could almost imagine that the last five years had been some horrible nightmare, that her dad had never failed her, was still the stalwart, affectionate father he'd been before their lives had been shattered. And then she blinked and reality returned—but somehow the impact of seeing him looking like his old self lingered.

He was standing not far away, idly talking to the receptionist and another older woman who Kate assumed was the director of the facility, and he was neatly, if casually, dressed, in jeans and a jacket. His clothes were probably the first positive sign since during his descent into the bottle, her usually neatly-dressed father had started to appear more disheveled, first with things as subtle as mismatched socks but then more obviously with wrinkled suits or untucked shirts. Not that her father had ever been what anyone would call a natty dresser; her mom used to tease her dad as having all the fashion sense of a blind mole, but he had, at least, always been a neat, if conservative, dresser.

But what hit her more strongly than his clothes was just him. He looked healthy again. He wasn't bloated, looked rather thin instead. The unhealthy tinge to his sallow skin was gone and the haggard lines of his face were smoothed out. One of his hands was resting on the handle of his suitcase and she could see that his hand was steady, not a tremor to be seen. And his posture was erect, making him look taller than she was used to seeing him. In these last couple years as he sank deeper into his alcoholism, he had hunched more, as if constantly in expectation of a blow, making him look shorter. Now, he was standing straight.

The receptionist noticed her first and that gave her a moment's preparation to once more paste on a smile before her dad turned and saw her and something squeezed at her heart, again, as her dad's expression lit up with a smile she couldn't remember having seen in years.

"Katie!"

Her throat felt stupidly tight. "Hi, Dad." She'd been planning on saying more—that she'd made good time, that it was good to see him, whatever—but the words died on her lips as her dad closed the distance between them in a few quick steps and before she fully realized what was happening, had pulled her into a hug.

For a painful second, she hesitated—she and her dad had mostly stopped hugging as their relationship had deteriorated in the last couple years—but then she gave in and wrapped her arms around him. And realized as she did so that he no longer felt that frail. There was a strength in his arms as he embraced her.

He drew back after a moment and she could see up close that her impression of how much better he looked had been true. His eyes were clear, no longer blood-shot, and the bags under his eyes were gone. There were some added lines around his mouth and his eyes, evidence of his struggle and, yes, his grief, but for the first time in years, her dad no longer looked… beaten.

Her dad gave her a somewhat watery smile. "Oh, Katie, you came."

She pasted on a bright smile and infused her voice with cheer. "I said I would, didn't I?"

Her dad's smile faltered for a moment before it returned. "It's good to see you." The words were commonplace but the tone, the expression, was not.

"It's good to see you too. You look good, Dad."

"Thank you for coming to pick me up."

"It's no trouble, Dad, really. I only worked a half-day today and it's not like I had anything better to do." It was meant to be something of a joke but she realized a moment too late that the humor fell with a thud as something like a wince flickered across her dad's expression. She'd made it sound as if, well, if she'd had anything else to do, she wouldn't have come up to pick her dad up. It shouldn't have mattered, shouldn't have been taken that way, but she was reminded, again, that things weren't… right between her and her dad. Joking was a sign of ease between people and she and her dad didn't have that. "There wasn't too much traffic so I made good time coming up," she hastily added to fill the silence.

"That's good. Good," her dad repeated and then added, in his turn, turning to the receptionist and the other woman, "Oh, I'm sorry, this is my daughter, the one I was just telling you about. Katie, this is Sheila and Gloria. Gloria runs this place."

Kate exchanged greetings and some idle small talk with the women and it wasn't long before she and her dad were leaving the facility.

But of course that left the two of them alone in her car. Kate spared a moment to hope that traffic cooperated for the drive back (and then felt guilty about it). She made something of a production of double-checking her mirrors and everything as she started her car and drove out of the parking lot, going through the motions with more ostentatious care than she'd used since she'd taken her driving exam back in high school. If she wasn't talking, it was because she was concentrating on her driving, that was all.

But not even her best efforts could make that explanation convincing, even to herself, for long and finally, she blurted out, "It's a nice day today." _The weather, great, that was a scintillating conversation topic._

"It is," her dad agreed. "Sunny and not too cold either."

"Yes, I'm glad I don't have to be making this drive in rain or worse, snow." Ugh, if she'd been trying to convince her dad that she was happy to come pick him up, she was failing miserably. And that was the end of that. What more was there to say? As a conversation starter, the weather was a failure. It wasn't as if either she or her dad were given to chatter at the best of times but this awkward silence was terrible.

She had a sudden flash of painful memory of the times her dad had let her accompany him to go fishing. Her dad had usually used fishing as his escape from a house full of women, appreciating the quiet of it (or so he'd joked) while she and her mom had spent the day together but sometimes, her dad would throw out the casual invite, "What do you say, Katie-girl, wanna go fishing with me?" and they would go off together. She'd loved those times. And while fishing, she and her dad had never talked much beyond exchanging a few quiet words here and there—no need to scare off the fish, her dad had always said—but the silences had been comfortable. She'd always felt so close to her dad on those fishing excursions.

They hadn't been fishing in about ten years. Another casualty of her teenage years and thinking she was too cool to be spending time with her parents—and then, their lives had been torn apart. And now, they were here, when two minutes of silence grated on her nerves and they were reduced to talking about the weather like polite strangers. God, she hated this awkwardness, hated not being able to talk to her dad anymore, and she should be used to it by now, but weirdly, it was worse when he was sober. Worse because when he was sober, she had to watch her words so much more carefully to avoid any triggers—any mention of her mom, their happy past, her job and its attendant dangers, anything unpleasant or sad.

Just her and her dad now—except that was the problem. It was never just the two of them anymore; they were always haunted by the ghost of her mother, the one who wasn't there and would never be there again.

"How is work going, Katie?"

She stiffened a little. She didn't—couldn't—talk about her work with her dad. "It's fine." And then inwardly winced at the clipped brevity of the answer and quickly added, carefully infusing just enough brightness into her voice, "We closed a case yesterday and I was the one who found a piece of evidence that turned out to be crucial."

"Good. Good," her dad repeated. "Glad to hear it. You've always been good at everything you set your mind to."

It was true—up until the moment it hadn't been. She hadn't found her mom's killer and she hadn't been able to save her dad either. She cut off the thought sharply. She _couldn't_ save him; it wasn't about failure.

"And you're still working for Captain Montgomery, right?"

Her dad remembered Captain Montgomery. That was something of a surprise. They'd only met once and her dad had not been at his best, to say the least. "Yes, I'm still working for Captain Montgomery."

"How is he?"

"He's fine. He isn't planning on working this weekend because it's one of his daughters' birthday."

"Oh, I didn't realize he had kids. How many does he have?"

"Three, a son and two daughters."

"That's nice. How old are they?"

"I'm not sure but I think the youngest just started school."

"Very young then," was her dad's bland comment.

She made a noncommittal sound and just like that, their attempt at a normal conversation sputtered out. She mentally searched her mind for something else to talk about. Not work—she never talked about her work with her dad. Her dad didn't like her job and worried about it and when he worried (or worried more), he drank. So her work was out. What else?

Before she'd thought of anything, her dad spoke up. "I talked to Charles at the firm. I'm going to be starting back at work from Monday."

She forced another smile. "That's great, Dad. It's nice that Charles has been so supportive." That part, at least, was true. Charles Robinowitz was one of the partners at her dad's firm and he was, fortunately, also one of her dad's oldest friends. He'd been a classmate and then a colleague of her mother's first and then become one of her dad's close friends too.

"Yes. He's been very helpful. And I'm actually looking forward to going back to work. It'll be good to keep busy, give me something to do," her dad said briskly.

She controlled her expression. It was the first time in years to hear that note of energy in her dad's voice, especially when it came to her dad's work. For so many years, he'd buried himself in his work, not with any real enthusiasm but because it was a place to hide (that sounded too familiar), keeping up with his responsibilities but drinking more and more in the evenings and over the weekends, a functional alcoholic, as the term went. He'd used his work as a shield to deny he had a problem too, for years.

She didn't know how to feel about her dad going back to work. On one level, work could help, had helped, giving him something else to bury himself in aside from alcohol. But on the other, the social life at law firms revolved around alcohol. Her dad might have managed to stay sober for days, even a few weeks on end, especially at particularly busy times, but then, he would go out to an event, schmoozing with a client, and he would have a drink or two. And having gotten the taste back, he'd return home and have another drink or three or five—and relapse again.

"Yes, being busy is good, as long as you're not too busy," she agreed brightly. She carefully did not say that it helped because that implied that he needed the help. "Do you think you'll have some interesting cases to go back to?"

"I hope so. Charles actually said it's good timing for my leave of absence to be ending because apparently they're in the middle of a big merger and it's taking up a lot of the senior attorneys' time but there's also a complex shareholder derivative suit coming up and he wants another lawyer with some experience to work on that."

Kate's mind skated right over the details of his words but then returned to it. Asking would give them something else to talk about. "Remind me again, what does a shareholder derivative suit mean? Remember I'm not a lawyer." She shot her dad a smile and kept it in place even as the attempt at self-deprecating humor felt like a double-edged sword, the reminder of her argument with her dad over going into the Academy in the first place. Because she _had_ been going to be a lawyer, had planned to follow in her parents' footsteps—until she hadn't.

Thankfully, her dad didn't appear to have noticed or remembered the possible sting in the words and only proceeded to answer her question with rather more thoroughness than Kate thought she would ever need to know but that, too, was good. It was… like her dad, once more sounding like the competent lawyer he had been, once more alert and engaged and above all, sober.

And it helped because it wasn't silence and it gave her time to scramble around for something else to talk about when her dad's explanation came to its inevitable conclusion.

Not work—what did she have to talk about that wasn't work? She didn't do much besides work; she couldn't talk about doing her chores or even going running. She hadn't been to see a movie in months. Okay, so Lanie might have a point about her not having a life.

Lanie—the thought of Lanie led to the last time she'd seen Lanie outside of work—at Remy's, when they had run into Castle. Castle—she latched onto the thought of him because he wasn't work-related (in spite of his fascination with her work) except—shit. She deflated a little. She couldn't mention Castle's name to her dad. Her dad of all people would remember that her mom had liked Castle's books and any mention of her mom to her dad was dangerous.

So not Castle but there was still Alexis. Yes, she could talk about Alexis. Her dinner with the Castles had been the closest thing approaching a normal life outside of work she'd had in… a while. And Alexis was untainted by murder, in every sense.

Her dad's explanation about shareholder derivative suits (of which Kate expected she would remember approximately one word in every ten) petered out soon enough. "I see. That sounds interesting," she lied.

"The concept itself might not be but in practice, it often is," was her dad's response. "At any rate, it'll be good to get back into the swing of things."

"Right, of course." She manufactured another bright smile and tossed it at her father. "I'm glad you're going back to work."

"Thanks, Katie." Her dad paused, sobered. "And don't worry. Charles knows about… everything, so he said he won't conscript me into going to client events." The words were not exactly fluent but Kate still felt frozen in her seat. It was possibly—really?—the first time her dad had admitted, or at least implied, that some aspects of his work weren't helpful or even that he had a problem at all. That had to be good, right?

"Oh. That's good," she forced out.

"And Gloria referred me to a sponsor in the city, Dave, and I've already started talking to him." Her dad's voice lowered, dropped, and a quick glance was enough to tell her that one of his hands was fisted and the other was gripping the car door with as much force as if the car was careening out of control and holding onto the door was the only way he could prevent himself from hurtling through the windshield. "I'm going to do better this time, Katie."

She managed not to choke on the sudden surge of bitterness and anger and remembered betrayal, swallowing back the bile. And she didn't scoff or visibly react in any way by dint of every ounce of self-control at her disposal. Because she couldn't believe him, couldn't trust him. He had told her too many times that he would do better, that he would stop, and then he would drink again, because of a reminder of her mom, because of her job, because of needing to drink at a client event, because of any number of reasons so really, he drank on any day that ended in the letter 'y,' and it had never ever been the last time. So many promises, all broken. So he'd been to rehab but that was no guarantee of anything and now, it was still up to him and how could she believe he would stay strong enough when he never had before?

"I'm sure you will, Dad," she managed to lie, making her voice sound sincere and warmly optimistic. Encouraging, supporting, because it was what she had to do. And for good measure, she reached out a hand and briefly squeezed her dad's arm.

He returned her smile with a small one of his own, his hand relaxing its grip on the car door. See, she could do this, be the support he needed and never ever let him see anything different.

There was another momentary silence that her dad broke by asking, "So, what else is going on in your life, Katie?"

"Oh, well, I had a nice dinner with a friend and his young daughter a few days ago," she began cheerfully.

"This friend is a man?"

In anyone else or even from her dad back when they'd still been okay, the question would have been a little teasing. Now, it was only an inquiry. "Yeah."

"Is this a friend from work then?"

"No. He…" _He bought me a cupcake for my birthday because I was alone and miserable?_ No, she could hardly say that. "We met because we like some of the same books," she answered carefully. It wasn't entirely untrue. That hadn't been why she and Castle had met but they had certainly become better acquainted because of his books and, well, of course he liked his own books.

"Oh so you met through a book club?"

"Something like that. Anyway, I had dinner with him and his daughter, who's just 9, and really precocious."

Kate started recounting some of the stories of her friends and the goings-on at school that Alexis had told, choosing ones that showed Alexis's precocity and some engaging childish antics of her schoolmates.

Kate sent silent thanks to Alexis and tacked on a thanks to Castle too, for his way of encouraging Alexis to talk so freely. She owed them one—not that she could ever tell that to either of them.

And even better, Alexis's tales brought them nearly into Manhattan so there was less time to fill.

Her dad chuckled. "This Alexis sounds like a smart kid. Reminds me of you at that age, Katie."

She stiffened a little. She hadn't thought that talking about a kid would almost certainly lead her dad to making comparisons and thoughts of her childhood would lead to memories of her mom. She tried to sound light. "I think Alexis is better behaved than I ever was."

"I wouldn't say that, Katie. You were never a badly behaved kid, a little willful, stubborn, even," her dad added and her heart stuttered because oh, he sounded gently teasing, so much like the way he'd used to be, the way he hadn't been in so long. "But not badly behaved. Your mom—"

Kate's heart leaped into her throat at the way he broke off but then her dad went on, his voice unnaturally steady and she glanced at him to see telltale lines of tension around his mouth indicating how much control he was exercising to continue speaking, relatively calmly, "Your mom and I used to count ourselves lucky for that."

Lucky. Up until her mom had been murdered in an alley. She choked back the sob rising in her throat, clearing it and frantically cast around for a change of subject.

This was why she couldn't talk to her dad anymore, every conversation was a minefield so fraught with potential hazards. All roads led to her mom, somehow. Would she and her dad never be able to have a real conversation ever again?

"So where were you thinking of going for dinner, Dad?" she blurted out, the words a little too rushed. "Have you thought about what you feel like eating? American, Italian, Mexican, French, Chinese, seafood?"

She sensed her dad studying her but carefully kept her eyes on the road and her expression bland.

"Is there anything you want to eat, Katie?" her dad responded after a moment.

"I'm fine with anything. You should be the one to choose, anyway. We should celebrate you finishing rehab," she added brightly.

"Celebrate," her dad repeated, his tone a little flat.

"Yes," she flashed him a smile. "It's good to have you back, Dad. Back in town," she quickly added. She wasn't—really, she wasn't—going to sound like she was reproaching him for not being there for her in the last five years.

Something flickered across her dad's face before he managed a faint smile. "Okay. Well, uh, there's a diner a few blocks away from my place, Patty's, that I've been curious to try. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great."

Destination settled, Kate used the excuse of needing to concentrate to navigate the usual traffic in Manhattan to settle into silence. It couldn't be called a comfortable silence but it wasn't quite as excruciating as the silence at the beginning of this trip had been. That was enough. Anyway, she had run out of possible conversational gambits and needed, too, to restock her energy to get through this dinner.

By some near-miracle, she managed to find an open parking spot just a block away from her dad's place (and by extension, a couple blocks away from the diner) and promptly took it.

The diner turned out to be a pleasant surprise, the atmosphere homey and cheerful and the servers friendly.

Perusing the menu and discussing the options took some time and Kate was reminded of dinner with Castle and Alexis and the way Alexis had discussed the options so seriously. The memory heartened her a little, accompanied as it was by the reminder that she was supposed to go over to Castle's place to try his lasagna on Wednesday. That dinner would be, she thought, enjoyable and, well, easy, unlike this one. It was something to look forward to.

And somehow, that helped in some indefinable way—and more concretely because the thought of Castle reminded Kate of some of the lighter, funnier stories from the precinct she'd told to Castle at Remy's. Those she could also tell to her dad. She proceeded to do so, giving him a highly expurgated account of some days in the precinct, focusing on the camaraderie and pranking that occasionally went on and skipping over any mention of homicide or danger so that a stranger listening to it could have thought she was talking about any regular office job.

Her personal store of amusing stories petered out before too long since there really was a limit to these more lighthearted moments on the job but then Kate valiantly spent the remainder of the dinner recounting other funny stories she'd heard from other precincts, the rumors of which made their way through the force.

It was exhausting and dispiriting. Kate was not a big talker at the best of times and her energy was beginning to flag after trying so hard to remain bright and cheerful while with her dad―and being bright and cheerful was not her default state, to say the least. (She thought that it might be nice to cry later—except she so rarely cried and this would be a stupid reason to cry. She shoved the thought aside.)

But all things came to an end eventually and that included this dinner. Kate walked her dad up to his apartment, gave him a hug, assured him he could call her any time and wished him luck on his first day back at work on Monday.

And then finally, after what felt like a year, Kate was able to return home to her own apartment, her façade of cheer dropping away. She flung herself down on her couch, feeling unaccountably drained—or not unaccountably. She hadn't spent so many hours with her dad in a long time and having to keep up a pretense, hide her feelings, for all those hours was tiring. She wasn't exactly a natural actor.

She felt stupid, irrational tears pricking at the back of her eyes and blinked them back. There was nothing to cry about and tears never solved anything.

Her wandering eyes found her bookcase, or more accurately, the shelf on her bookcase dedicated to Castle's books, his name repeating over and over. She saw _Hell Hath No Fury_ and was reminded of how Castle had so sneakily tricked her into revealing how big a fan she was—and was surprised into a small smile, a bubble of self-deprecating amusement popping up inside her chest. She had to admit it was clever. She didn't think anyone had managed to trick her into such a betrayal in a long time and while the competitive side of her might be gnashing its teeth, her sense of humor was winning out.

And after the last endless few hours, anything that made her smile was more than welcome.

Kate pushed herself to her feet, going over to the bookshelf and picking out _A Rose For Ever After._ It was an old one, a little clunky by Castle's current standards, but she liked it. And because she'd read it before (more than once), it wouldn't require much concentration and it had the benefit of being one of Castle's funnier books. Castle's books were not what anyone would call comedic because mysteries as a genre generally weren't known for their humor but this one showcased some sly wit. It was what she needed right now. She could—and did—simply lose herself in the world created by Castle's words, and not think about her dead mother or her (recovering) alcoholic father.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Apologies for the lack of Castle but he'll be back in the next chapters. As always, all readers and reviewers are much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: The first of two chapters dealing with Kate's first dinner at the loft. Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 8_

"Beckett."

Kate looked up from perusing the victim's call records. "Yes, sir."

"Just got a tip that our pool hustler often shows up at Harry's Bar. Want to join me tonight in sitting on top of it to see if he shows?"

"Yes, of course, sir." It had been phrased as a question but they both knew that she didn't have much of a choice. It was this sort of thing—being willing to put in more hours, go above and beyond—that helped in being promoted so Kate didn't hesitate.

"Good. It'll let Scanlon here go home and scare his kids with the sight of his ugly mug."

Detective Hassan directed the last jibe at his partner, setting off a round of chuckles and some ironic insults since Scanlon looked like a TV show version of an older but still handsome cop with his strong features, salt-and-pepper hair, and a smile that was a triumph of orthodontia. Kate smiled almost by rote but took advantage of the moment's distraction to slip away from the bullpen and into the quiet hallway leading to storage, pulling out her phone. She was supposed to go over to Castle's for dinner tonight but that was obviously not happening now.

It wasn't the first time work had come up to disrupt plans, usually with Lanie, but for the first time, Kate was aware of a little niggle of disappointment.

He answered after two rings. "Rick Castle."

"Hi Castle, it's Beckett—Kate," she corrected herself. She was so used to referring to herself as Beckett.

"Kate, hi!" A little ember of warmth kindled in her chest because he sounded so happy to hear from her. "You've got nice timing. I just popped the lasagna into the oven. Do you need directions to my place?"

The warmth faded. "Ah, no, not exactly. The opposite, actually. It turns out I can't make it at all because I have to go on a stakeout tonight."

"Really? That's awesome!"

She found herself smiling in spite of herself. Why didn't it surprise her that Castle would be so excited at the idea of going on a stakeout? Oddly, she realized she'd been expecting it. "Clearly you're not disappointed at all that I can't come to dinner," she quipped. "Very hospitable of you."

"No, I didn't mean that!" he blurted out. "I meant going on a stakeout was awesome. Of course I'm sorry you can't join us for dinner."

She bit her lip, reminded that in spite of the weird sense of familiarity, maybe from having read his books for so long, she and Castle didn't actually know each other that well, were not so familiar with each other's tells and tones of voice for him to pick up on when she was joking or not. "It's okay, Castle, I know what you meant. I was only joking."

"Right," he sounded relieved. "So you have to work tonight? I take it you're working on a murder case?"

A smile escaped her. He tried to sound serious and sober but his thrill at the idea of her work bled into his voice anyway. It should have bothered her but it didn't. Maybe it was because she knew he didn't mean to make light of her work, knew he did actually care about the victims' lives, but somehow she just found it amusing. "Yeah, and one of the Detectives asked me to join him on the stakeout."

"That is so cool!"

A laugh bubbled from her. "Really, Castle? What do you think going on a stakeout is going to involve?"

"Please tell me it's like on TV, getting to go in and raid places after watching suspicious activity for a while."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Castle," she retorted dryly, "but usually stakeouts are boring evenings spent sitting in a car watching a building. It's only barely more interesting than watching paint dry."

He heaved a sigh. "Must you spoil my imaginings with your reality?"

She smirked into the phone. "Sorry," she said in a tone that indicated she was anything but. And then more seriously, "Tell Alexis I'm sorry to cancel like this last minute. I don't mean to be a flake."

His tone changed too, becoming once again the concerned father she now knew he was. "Don't worry about it, Kate. Alexis will understand that your work has to take precedence. You can come over some other day."

She smiled. "Will I still get to try this lasagna of yours that Alexis claims is so delicious?"

He chuckled. "Sure. And you needn't sound so skeptical either. I really do make a great lasagna."

"Uh huh. I'll believe that when I taste it, Castle," she teased. (How was it that he brought out this teasing, humorous side of her?)

"Challenge accepted, Officer. When do you think you'll be able to come to dinner?"

Kate quickly reviewed the upcoming days. "How about Monday?" she suggested. She was scheduled to be on shift this weekend so leaving at the end of her shift on Monday should be fine, assuming a body didn't drop late that afternoon.

"Monday is fine for us. I'll tell Alexis."

"Okay, sounds good." She paused and then added, "Say hi to Alexis for me and tell her again I really am sorry not to be able to come tonight."

"You had to work. It happens. Alexis understands that but I'll tell her. Have fun on your stakeout tonight."

She laughed in spite of herself. "I highly doubt that but thanks. Have a good dinner with Alexis."

"Keeping Alexis company is always fun for me. See you on Monday, Kate."

"Bye, Castle."

Kate ended the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket as she returned to the bullpen.

Detective Hassan glanced up at her and paused. "Hey, Beckett."

She hesitated before resuming her seat. His tone and his expression were somewhat… off. Had she managed to get something on her face? "Is something wrong?"

He blinked. "No, no, it's just you're smiling, Beckett."

She was? Oh, right, she was. "Um, yes," she said rather lamely. 'So what' was on the tip of her tongue but she bit it back since that wouldn't sound appropriate to a superior officer.

"It's a good look on you. You should smile more often," Hassan commented dismissively, returning to the victim's financials, only to add, although he didn't look up again, "Might want to grab some dinner while you can, Beckett. We'll head out around 8."

"Yes, sir," she said, picking up the victim's phone records, looking for a pattern or anything unusual, even as her mind wondered at Hassan's words. She liked working for Detectives Hassan and Scanlon precisely because they both tended to be no-nonsense cops and neither of them had given any indication that they cared what she looked like, which was a refreshing change. Did she smile so rarely at work that Hassan would comment on it? She smiled at work, didn't she? Well, maybe not really; she usually gave small, somewhat forced smiles to avoid awkwardness and seem like a team player but she was normally too focused on work to smile out of real amusement. Talking to Castle, even so briefly, had been different, a moment of actual levity. After all, having friends like Castle and Alexis (odd as it was to be thinking of a 9-year-old as a friend) to see outside of work was nice, would do her good.

* * *

Monday turned out to be another tiring day. A body dropped that morning in an alley behind a sketchy SRO so Kate and Velasquez, the other uniform assigned to canvass, spent the afternoon trudging up and down the grimy hallways of the SRO, knocking on doors and asking anyone who answered if they'd seen or heard anything. Unsurprisingly, no one had—or at least, no one was willing to talk to cops—so it was a frustrating day and by the time her shift ended, Kate was torn between thinking a pleasant, fun dinner with Castle and Alexis would be the perfect antidote to her day or that she just wanted to go home, take a long soak in her tub, and then go to bed. But she couldn't cancel again and so she took the subway down to Soho to the address Castle had given her, only stopping along the way to pick up a prettily-wrapped box of chocolates.

Kate hadn't thought anything of it—her brain clearly not functioning properly—but she belatedly remembered she still had her uniform on when the doorman in the building—of course, Rick Castle lived in a building with a full-time uniformed doorman—practically leaped to his feet when she walked in. "Can I help you, Officer?"

Kate managed a smile. "Oh, sorry, it's—I'm off duty. I'm here to visit Richard Castle."

The doorman, whose nametag read Eduardo, smiled back. "Oh, yes, of course. You must be Miss Beckett? Mr. Castle said he was expecting you. You can go up. It's the top floor, to the right."

"Thank you."

She wasn't particularly proud of herself for it but she tensed a little the moment she stepped off the elevator at the top floor to see Castle's door—the fact that there appeared to be only two units on the floor was some indication of just how large each unit was—but even that fact paled in significance to the large Christmas wreath on the door. Oh right. Christmas was coming up in… less than two weeks now. She'd forgotten—or more accurately, had deliberately avoided thinking about it. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that Castle would be the type to go all out for Christmas.

She tamped down the stupid, unreasonable pang at the thought of the holiday and steeled herself a little as she knocked on the door.

She heard the muffled sound of Alexis's high, childish tones through the door, calling, "I'll get it," before the sound of footsteps and then the door was flung open to reveal the little girl.

"Kate, hi, you're here!" The girl's eyes widened. "And you're wearing your uniform! Cool!"

Kate smiled, feeling some of her ridiculous tension easing. It was hard to stay tense or uneasy in any way in the face of Alexis's blitheness. "Hi, Alexis."

Alexis stepped back from the door, allowing Kate to step inside, and Kate had to clench her jaw to keep her mouth from falling open at the first sight of Rick Castle's apartment—well, loft. Her first impression was of its size. Her second was that a Christmas store had exploded inside.

It was… huge. Probably big enough to fit two of her apartment inside and leave room left over and she saw an open staircase to the side so there was clearly a second floor too. The first floor was mostly open and airy, with a large, comfortable couch and some armchairs set up in front of a big TV separated by some bookshelves from another open space with a grand piano and then a dining area alongside a kitchen that looked as big as some apartments in Manhattan.

Oh geez, she'd known Rick Castle was rich, a multi-millionaire, but the size of this place told her that even then, she'd underestimated his wealth. Oh god, what was she even _doing_ here? She was just a cop and she had no doubt that her entire yearly salary—for that matter, her entire salary for a decade—would probably not cover even a tiny fraction of what this place must have cost.

And as for Christmas-well, Castle had not been kidding at all when he said he loved Christmas. There was a towering, fully-decorated Christmas tree off to one side with a little miniature train set circling it and gifts piled up around. A festive garland festooned the railing of the staircase; there were paper snowflakes taped up on the windows and walls, Christmas lights strung up along the top of the bookshelves, and three stockings hanging from the mantle over the fireplace. To say nothing of the large gingerbread house sitting on top of the piano alongside a little family of construction paper and cotton ball snowmen.

Honestly, Kate would have expected to hate it since she didn't exactly enjoy Christmas anymore but somehow, she didn't. She wasn't quite comfortable but the overall effect was surprisingly homey and welcoming, in spite of the size and obvious luxury of the entire space. Maybe it was because so many of the decorations were clearly home-made. This wasn't some expensive, impersonal, store-bought display. The garland on the staircase was made of looping rings of red, green, and white construction paper, obviously the work of Alexis, as were the paper snowflakes on the windows and walls. The gingerbread house was clearly home-made and the stockings over the mantel were also decorated by hand, one boasting a (seasonally inappropriate) rocket ship and a large swooping R, another with a hand-drawn gingerbread man and candy canes with 'Alexis' written in childish, somewhat uneven script, and the third featuring a snowman—well, snow-woman since the figure had long-lashed eyes and was wearing a red hat and scarf and the stick arms seemed to feature bracelets—with the name 'Martha' written in the same childish script as Alexis'.

She was distracted from her looking around—okay, gaping—by Alexis who was almost skipping around Kate to get the full effect of Kate's uniform and then by Castle's greeting. "Kate! Hi—wow, you're in your uniform!" If Alexis had looked impressed by her uniform, Castle appeared to be nearly about to float off the ground in sheer excitement. "That is so awesome!"

A laugh bubbled up out of her. "I didn't come here to put on a fashion show."

The tease seemed to go right over Castle's head, if he heard it at all (which was questionable, occupied as he was in studying her uniform) and Kate looked to Alexis, who was also looking her over with wide, eager eyes.

"You look so grown-up and official, Kate. Not that you're not a grown-up all the time. And not that you're super old," Alexis added hurriedly, flushing and looking adorably flustered.

Kate grinned. "I know what you meant, Alexis."

Alexis reached out a hand and then hesitated. "Can I touch?"

Kate stiffened, the uncertain question serving as an abrupt reminder that—oh crap—she still had her gun with her. She hadn't even thought of it—it was just part of her uniform—but now it belatedly occurred to her that she was in a home with a child and she had a loaded gun on her hip in easy access. Admittedly, Alexis didn't seem like the kind of kid to play with it without permission but still.

She looked at Alexis to see that the girl was, thankfully, not focused on her gun at all but was still studying Kate's uniform, the NYPD patch on her sleeve, the girl's gaze taking the uniform in from head to toe. She crouched down in front of Alexis. "Sure, Alexis." She pointed out and explained the NYPD logo and other elements of the uniform and allowed Alexis to touch the patch and then after a moment, her handcuffs too. And since Alexis was clearly fascinated, she showed Alexis her badge again and went on to explain the way badges looked different for each rank in the NYPD. She was aware that Castle had come around the counter and was hovering and listening in on the explanation with as much focused interest as Alexis was and only pushed herself to her feet when she felt her legs getting stiff from crouching for so long.

"This is so cool!" Castle enthused. "Thanks, Kate."

"Thank you, Kate," Alexis chirped up. "It's really interesting. I didn't know all that about the NYPD uniforms and I've never seen real handcuffs before."

"You're very welcome. Hi, Castle," she added very belatedly and then laughed a little at herself for how late the greeting was and somewhat awkwardly held out the box of chocolates. "Oh, um, I brought this for you and Alexis."

He grinned, accepting the box and reaching out to place it on the counter. "Thank you, Officer."

She hesitated and then took a step closer to Castle, lowering her voice, and his eyes widened a little. "Ah, Castle, do you have a safe or something?"

A faint frown of confusion flickered across his face and he opened his mouth, no doubt to ask why, but she jerked her head to indicate her hip (she didn't want to mention her gun aloud) and his eyes fell to her holster and then he nodded in immediate understanding.

She was a little surprised at this ability to communicate without words but she supposed it was one benefit of his intelligence.

"Alexis, sweetie, will you set the table for us please?" he requested and then after Alexis's quick agreement, tilted his head in a silent 'follow me' before he led the way across the expanse of the front room and past another open "wall" of bookshelves and into what was clearly his office. There was a large (surprisingly neat) desk with a few picture frames and a laptop sitting on it, a big white board rather like the ones the detectives used in the precinct and a few random words scrawled on it. (Gun running. Assassination. Terrorism. Conspiracy. Kidnapping. War.)

Oh wow. She was in Richard Castle's office, the place in which he'd written the books she had sitting on her shelves at home. When had her life gotten so surreal?

She wasn't going to gawk, was going to act completely calm, blasé even—but even as she thought it, her mouth opened and the words, "I feel like Alfred in the Bat-cave for the first time," spilled out. So much for that.

He laughed. "Thanks but even I don't think my office is nearly as cool as the Bat-cave." He stooped in front of one of the shelves and pushed aside the books to reveal a safe which he opened. "All set?"

She glanced at the hand he was holding out and then after an almost imperceptible pause, took her gun out of the holster and handed it to him. He didn't handle her gun with any of the caution most civilians unfamiliar with guns would but with an ease that surprised her, looking at it before putting it into the safe. "Safety's on, good."

"The safety is on—how do you know that?" she blurted out.

He tossed a smirk at her. "Please, Kate, I'm a crime writer and a guy. Do you really think I wouldn't have done research to learn about guns?"

Well, put like that… "Did you learn how to shoot too?"

"What do you think?"

So he had.

He waggled his brows at her teasingly. "Why, are you challenging me to a shooting contest, Officer?"

She met his eyes, bright with humor, and for a split second, of their own volition, her eyes flickered down to his mouth, the curve of his lips, and deep inside her, she felt a sharp, visceral tug of physical attraction—no! No! Shit. He had a girlfriend. And he was a multi-millionaire celebrity who couldn't possibly be interested in someone like her anyway. And even if he were, she was in no place to have a relationship, had no room in her life to allow for a relationship and didn't even want a relationship. (She _didn't!_ )

She jerked her eyes away from his, making a show of studying his office instead, her eyes finding the whiteboard by his desk. "Brainstorming for the next Derrick Storm book?" she asked, deflected. Prayed to whatever higher powers there might be that he hadn't noticed her little slip-up. Lanie's warning about spending too much time with Castle returned to her mind but she ignored it. It had just been one moment, an aberration, that was all.

He turned away, something she couldn't identify flitting across his face as he glanced at the board and then back at her, an easy smile on his face. "I'm a mystery writer; I don't give away spoilers for my own books," he returned lightly, his words overlapping with the distant sound of a timer going off.

"Daddy, the lasagna's ready!" Alexis called.

"Be right there," he returned and gestured for Kate to precede him out of his office, which she did while giving herself a severe lecture on the idiocy of feeling attracted to Richard Castle.

Alexis ran lightly up to them, taking Kate's hand. "Kate, come look at our tree. Daddy and I decorated it and he let me put the star on top. Isn't it pretty?" She paused and then added, matter of factly, "Daddy doesn't like me to be in the kitchen when he's taking things out of the oven."

Kate accompanied the girl to admire the tree that even Kate had to admit was worth admiring. She was silently thankful for the fact that she'd managed to build up an immunity of sorts to the sight of Christmas decorations; it wasn't possible to live in the city and avoid them entirely with the way every store decked itself out so even though she didn't like Christmas, at least it wasn't actively painful to see Christmas decorations. This tree looked like a family's tree, with many of the ornaments clearly hand-made (Alexis-made) although Kate spotted a few towards the top that were expensive, delicate, and beautiful, Limoges and Swarovski crystal. And one in pride of place that consisted of a small picture frame with the caption, "Baby's First Christmas," and contained a picture of a sleeping baby Alexis, tufts of strawberry-blonde hair on her head. Kate hid a wince—her parents had had a similar ornament for her that they'd insisted on putting up on their tree every year until Kate had been around 13 and had rebelled once and for all and her mom had quietly put the ornament away—and forced a smile instead.

Alexis's eyes had followed Kate's gaze and she let out a huff. "Daddy always insists on putting that one up even though I've told him and told him it's so _embarrassing_ ," she drew the word out in childish displeasure.

Kate put a hand on Alexis's shoulder. "You were very cute," she said honestly.

"See, Alexis, I told you, there's nothing embarrassing about being the world's cutest baby," Castle interjected from the kitchen.

"Daddy, stop," Alexis protested and immediately turned to Kate. "What are you doing for Christmas, Kate?"

Kate hesitated, the innocent (and totally normal) question tugging at her heart. She'd be working the Christmas Eve shift, just like always, and then on Christmas, she supposed she'd spend it with her dad but she couldn't muster up any anticipation at the thought. She and her dad no longer celebrated, no longer really knew how to celebrate Christmas (or any holiday) anymore. They hadn't really tried since that first terrible Christmas when Kate had attempted to cook (inadvertently flavoring the dishes with her tears) and her dad had drunk himself sick. This year, she didn't know. She and her dad hadn't discussed it yet. But her dad was still sober, a voice in her mind reminded her. Still sober. For now.

She forced a smile for Alexis. "I'll spend it with my dad."

"Just like me," Alexis volunteered. "Well, I'll spend Christmas with dad and my Grams," she amended. "Does your mom live far away too? Mine's in California."

Again, the girl's innocent question squeezed at her heart. Oh god, why had she ever thought she could spend time with a little kid as if she had a normal life?

Kate tried to breathe steadily through the spasm of pain that accompanied the thought of her mom, wondering what she could say but before she'd come up with anything, Castle's voice interrupted her, cutting across the pause.

"Pumpkin, will you pour us each a glass of water please?"

"Sure. Excuse me," Alexis added politely to Kate before scampering back to the kitchen, her red hair flying out behind her.

Saved by the writer. Kate relaxed marginally and followed Alexis more sedately back towards the kitchen.

Castle was ladling out servings of lasagna onto three plates but she caught his eyes as he glanced at her quickly and—oh. He had heard. More than that, he'd intervened (saved her) deliberately. He knew about her mom—and her dad. (God, what had she been thinking to tell a total stranger about her parents?) She never told strangers about her parents because she hated pity—but oddly, even as she thought it, she realized why. Because it wasn't pity she saw in his eyes. It was something different, softer than that, warmer. It was… kindness. Rick Castle was, whatever his reputation, a nice man. Lame as the word was, it was true.

And for the first time, it occurred to Kate that she didn't regret telling Castle about her parents. It made things… easier, if that was the word. He didn't pity her, wasn't treating her like some fragile victim, but at the same time, he knew and understood, or at least seemed to. And had diverted Alexis's attention from a painful subject and done it subtly and naturally enough that no one would have picked up on it. It wasn't that she needed saving, she didn't and hadn't expected it, but having someone act as her, well, backup of a sort was… nice.

"Everything looks and smells great," Kate managed with a smile that didn't need to be forced. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"No, I think Alexis and I have everything covered, don't we, Alexis?"

"Yup," Alexis chirped as she (carefully) carried glasses of water over to the table. "Come sit down, Kate. Would you like anything besides water to drink?"

Kate obeyed the 9-year-old and sat down, assured Alexis that water was fine, and hid a smile at Alexis's trying so hard to play hostess.

An unusual little flare of warmth sparked in her chest and Kate belatedly recognized it as contentment, a little piece of joy at the end of a long day. This—sitting down to a home-cooked dinner with congenial company, people she liked, a little girl whose blithe friendliness shone as brightly as a beacon—was so much better than going home to her comfortable but solitary apartment and spending another evening alone.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: The dinner continues….

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 9_

Castle presented Kate with a plate of lasagna with a small dramatic flourish. "Here you go, Kate. Prepare to be shocked and awed by the deliciousness of my lasagna."

Kate bit back another laugh. "I'm a cop, Castle. I don't get shocked or awed that easily," she returned dryly.

"Ah, but you've never tried my lasagna before either. And I make great lasagna, don't I, Alexis?"

"Yup, he does," Alexis agreed brightly as she slid into a chair across from Kate with her own plate of lasagna.

Castle took the seat at the head of the table so he could face them both and then both he and Alexis proceeded to turn their gazes to Kate, waiting for her to take the first bite of lasagna. Kate felt a little self-conscious but she duly took a bite of the lasagna and—even though she wasn't quite sure where this dramatic instinct was coming from—put on an expression of exaggerated thoughtfulness as she chewed and swallowed as if she were a judge on Kitchen Wars.

"Well, what's the verdict, Officer?" Castle blurted out.

Kate teasingly let her pause stretch out before she answered blandly, "It is good lasagna."

"Just good?" he pretended to huff.

She gave in and laughed. "All right, it's extremely good," she answered honestly. (Who would have guessed? Not only did Richard Castle cook; he cooked _well_.)

"That's better," Castle approved.

"I told you, Kate," Alexis said brightly. "Daddy does make very good lasagna, even better than the one at Mirabelli's but don't tell Maria or Gianni I said so."

Kate smiled at the girl. "Your secret's safe with me, Alexis. You have good taste."

"I've trained her well," Castle pretended to preen.

"It's natural aptitude," Kate quipped. "Not training. Alexis is just smart about food, right, Alexis?"

The girl nodded and shot her father an impish grin as she agreed, "Uh huh, right."

Castle made a face for Alexis's benefit, making the girl giggle into her own lasagna.

For a while, they just focused on eating and there was plenty of food to eat. Not just lasagna, there was also salad and garlic bread.

Alexis took a decent serving of salad too, somewhat to Kate's surprise. She seemed to remember her mom having to insist or wheedle Kate into eating her vegetables at that age.

Castle appeared to guess her thoughts—how?—and commented, "Alexis is pretty good about eating vegetables. She just doesn't like broccoli or cauliflower, right, Alexis?"

Alexis wrinkled her nose. "That's because broccoli is gross."

Castle threw Kate a laughing glance but addressed Alexis. "Yes, pumpkin, I know."

The taste (or lack of it) of broccoli settled, Castle turned to Kate. "I want to hear all about the stakeout you got to go on last week, Kate. Was it amazing? Please say it was amazing."

Kate bit back a smile. "It was amazing," she deadpanned dutifully.

He practically lit up. "Really?"

"I sat in a car for hours watching for a guy who ended up never showing up at all until we gave up after 1 a.m. and then I went home to grab around 4 hours of sleep before going back to work," she answered flatly.

He drooped. "Really? That was it? No raids or take-downs?"

Kate hid a smile and deliberately responded, "If you want thrilling excitement, you should try reading James Patterson's books."

Castle reacted with quite as much (or more) histrionic flair as she was coming to expect. He pasted on a look of theatrical horror and pretended to cover Alexis's ears. "Cover thine ears, child, lest you be influenced by this blasphemy!"

Ridiculous man.

Alexis ducked away, giggling, but then fixed inquisitive eyes on Castle. "What's blassemy mean?"

"Blasphemy," Castle corrected, enunciating the word carefully. "It means saying something disrespectful about something sacred, like a person's religion."

Alexis nodded and then after a moment spoke up, "But Daddy, that's not right because you were talking about Patterson's books and you always say it's okay for people to like different kinds of books and we shouldn't say anyone is silly or make fun of them for liking or not liking some books or movies."

Kate hid another smile and watched Castle, realizing that for a second, he was conflicted between carrying on with his joking egotism and sobering up to inculcate the serious principle. But his tendency to silliness notwithstanding, Kate wasn't surprised that his paternal side won out and he sobered. "Yes, you're right, Alexis. I was just being silly."

Alexis nodded and added with a worldly-wise air, "You are silly an awful lot, Daddy."

Kate sputtered with laughter while Castle tried to look offended but failed and gave in with a laugh, tweaking Alexis's hair playfully. "Fine, pumpkin, we can grow up together."

"That won't work because Grams says I'm already more mature than you are," Alexis informed him cheekily.

Castle affected a beleaguered sigh. "Remind me to scold Grams for that next time we see her."

"You can't scold Grams; she's your mom."

Castle narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "Grams put you up to saying that, didn't she, Alexis?"

Alexis grinned. "Yup."

Castle threw Kate a look of mock woe and Kate didn't try to hold back her mirth. Really, this dinner was again turning out to be the most fun she'd had in more than a week, pretty much since the last dinner she'd had with them. She was starting to wonder why she'd ever resisted the idea of spending more time with Castle and Alexis. She could use a little more innocent fun in her life and she couldn't exactly taint Alexis's innocence with the girl's father right there. It would just be the occasional friendly dinner and she could use more real friends.

"Well, can you at least tell us if you solved the case you were working on last week? Did you catch the killer even if the stakeout was a bust?" Castle asked with the air of someone deliberately changing the subject.

Okay, so Castle's fascination with her job was a little wrinkle but it occurred to her that she was rather glad of it too. It made her feel less as if she were somehow taking advantage of his kindness in an attempt to brighten up her own life. It wasn't as if she was spending time with either Castle or Alexis alone so there was nothing to worry about. And if wasn't like she found Castle that attractive anyway. ( _Liar._ Shut up!) As if to prove her wrong, her eyes darted to him of their own volition, seeing the sparks of interest light up his eyes, the eager smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and she felt an involuntary little flutter in her insides that she immediately quelled. Fine then, he was too... rich and famous, aside from not being single. He wouldn't—couldn't—be interested in her and anyway, she had no room in her life for a relationship.

"We managed to arrest the killer the next day. It turned out the victim was into gambling and he got in too deep with the wrong people," she answered carefully, giving a sanitized version of the story.

"Have you had to arrest a lot of people, Kate?" Alexis piped up.

"Yes, have you?" Castle echoed.

"A few," Kate answered mildly.

"What is it like to arrest someone?" Castle asked, clearly fascinated.

Ugly. She'd been sworn at, puked on, groped, and outright assaulted by people she'd had to arrest. And she'd even had to arrest her own father for public intoxication—she slammed a door on that thought. No, no, she wasn't going to think about that. She shoved the memory out of her mind and called up all her composure. "It's generally not fun," she finally settled for saying. "People don't like being arrested."

"But you need to have a good reason to arrest someone so you're not just doing it to be mean and then you need to tell them their rights," Alexis spoke up.

Kate blinked. "That's exactly right, Alexis. How did you know that?"

"Daddy told me. He knows about things like that."

"Book research, you know," Castle explained.

She believed him. It wasn't implausible but she found herself wondering if that was really all. He seemed just a little flustered, self-conscious, and it made her instincts prickle. She might be being a paranoid cop but she had to wonder. Not that she believed it would be anything serious—even Rick Castle couldn't have gotten away with hiding something big and she'd never heard anything other than vaguely scandalous and titillating scuttlebutt about him—but she made a mental note to look him up. If only because she expected it could be fodder to tease him over. (She really was friends with Rick Castle now, wasn't she?)

"I see," she agreed and turned to Alexis. "Having a good reason is called probable cause to arrest someone," she explained.

"Probable cause," Alexis repeated the phrase carefully and then smiled brightly. "Thanks, Kate. I didn't know that before."

Yeah, the girl was definitely her father's daughter. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about my work all the time," Kate changed the subject. "I'd rather hear about you, Alexis. Did you learn anything interesting in school today?"

It was all she could think of to ask but it belatedly occurred to her that kids probably got tired of that question, only for Alexis to surprise her again by her eager nod.

"Uh huh. For geography, we're learning the map of Europe and memorizing the capitals of the different countries. Italy is an easy one to learn because it looks like a boot and I know where France is because Mommy took me to Paris this year and Daddy said he'd help me memorize the capitals of the other countries."

Kate glanced at Castle to see a faint flicker of something she couldn't identify except that it wasn't pleasure cross his face at Alexis's mention of being taken to Paris but then the look was gone and he was smiling at Alexis again.

"Alexis really likes school, don't you, Alexis?" he commented and then turned to Kate to add drolly, "I don't know where she gets it except it wasn't from me."

Kate smiled as Alexis shrugged, a somewhat odd gesture from the girl who was so enthusiastic. "I do like school. I like learning new things and I like getting to see my friends."

"I liked elementary school too," Kate told Alexis truthfully. Elementary school had been mostly fun, what with recess and generally easy schoolwork. "What else are you learning in school?"

Alexis was quite happy to talk more about school and her blithe prattle lasted for the rest of the meal until Castle stood up and started clearing the table and Alexis broke off and slid off her chair. "Let me help," she chirped.

Kate started to stand up too. "I can—" she began but the sentence was never finished as Castle waved a hand at her and Alexis too fixed her with a look. "No, no, Kate, you're a guest. We can handle everything. Anyway," he declared dramatically, "I have a very serious, important question to ask you."

"Okay, what's your question?"

"Do you like coffee?" Castle intoned, his tone as portentous as if he were asking her to swear a blood oath.

A laugh bubbled out of her in spite of herself at the ludicrousness of the question contrasted with his tone. "I love it," she answered honestly.

Castle nodded solemnly. "Aha, and that is the correct answer! Well, then, Officer, today is your lucky day because I had some extra time this morning and I made a super-special dessert of my famous tiramisu."

Super-special and famous tiramisu, huh? Kate bit back a snort. He really was ridiculous and she would never have expected to like it but damned if he didn't manage to make it funny.

"But Daddy, you know I don't like the taste of coffee," Alexis spoke up, her tone edging perilously close to petulance.

Castle clapped a hand to his chest histrionically. "Oh how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, when your own child declares she doesn't like coffee," he declaimed and then threw a look of mock warning at Alexis. "Never fear, freakish child of mine. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated."

Kate laughed. "You're one of the Borg now?"

That got Castle's attention and he turned to stare at her, looking delighted. "You know _Star Trek_ too? You are so hot."

She—uh—what? Kate felt heat burn in her cheeks and a little unwitting flutter set off in her chest. Had he really just said that in front of his daughter?

She was saved from having to think of a response by Alexis's voice. "Don't be gross, Daddy," the girl reproved.

Castle blinked and looked sheepish and oh, was that a little bit of a blush heating his cheeks? "Oh, did I say that out loud? Oops, sorry, Kate." He seemed to mentally shake himself and turned back to Alexis. "Don't worry, pumpkin, I remembered that you don't like coffee so for your dessert, you can have either cookies or ice cream."

Alexis tilted her head in thought. "Mm, both. I want one scoop of ice cream and one cookie."

Castle nodded. "Deal. What flavor of ice cream?"

"Mm, chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie, please."

"Coming right up, Miss Alexis."

"Ooh and can we watch a movie while eating dessert?"

"That sounds good to me."

This little exchange thankfully gave Kate time to regain her composure so she was able to smile naturally at Alexis as the girl turned to Kate. "Kate, will you stay to watch a movie with us?"

"Sure, Alexis," she agreed readily, only to be a little surprised at herself. For someone who'd been thinking longingly of going home to a soaking bath, she found she really wasn't in a rush to leave. This whole evening had just been… nice, fun. A delicious home-cooked meal and congenial company—it was like a night apart from her normal life and she was enjoying herself too much not to want to prolong the evening a little longer. Castle's loft, for all its size and luxury, was so obviously a home and Castle and Alexis might be just two of them but Castle's personality made up for the lack of numbers and they were such a happy family… Family—the word stupidly made her throat get tight but she swallowed back the ridiculous lump. She wasn't—refused to be—so stupid and petty and anyway, she wouldn't wish what had happened to her on her worst enemy, let alone on an innocent little kid like Alexis.

"Oh goody!" Alexis lit up brighter than their Christmas tree with that enthusiasm that seemed to be a Castle family trait. "Come help me pick a movie to watch, Kate!"

Alexis slipped her hand into Kate's and took off across the room towards the TV, leaving Kate to quicken her steps a little and follow along with a laugh.

Alexis opened up one of the cabinets next to the TV to reveal a DVD collection that looked extensive enough to set up a store. There was a generous selection of sci fi, including boxed sets of both _Star Trek_ series, the full series of _Firefly_ , and the complete series of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ (that had Kate biting back a smile). More unsurprisingly, on the lower shelves, was what was clearly the Alexis collection of seemingly every animated movie ever made and other childhood classics.

Kate looked down at Alexis. "So what are you thinking of watching?"

Alexis thought about it and then glanced up at Kate with a quick smile. " _Mulan_ ," she announced. "Is that okay, Kate?"

"I'm fine with that. I remember I liked the songs in it," Kate added. She had a vague memory of the songs and having good music was usually a safe assumption to make about the Disney animated movies.

Alexis almost lit up with a smile. "It does have good songs. And I like it because Mulan's brave and she's a warrior." Alexis paused and then added brightly, "She's like you, Kate!"

A flare of warmth settled around Kate's heart, surprising her a little. "Thank you, Alexis," she said sincerely. She would never have imagined feeling so touched at such a simple compliment and yet she was. To have a little kid think that she was brave and a warrior—it mattered. She didn't think of herself as being brave; she was all too aware of the nightmares she suffered fairly frequently, aware of how cautious and yes, afraid, she was. Afraid of losing her dad more, again, to his addiction, afraid of failure, afraid of letting her mom down, afraid of losing someone she cared about… But at least to one little girl, she was a hero and somehow that made it feel as if she could be the hero one little girl already thought she was, or at least made her want to try.

"Who's like Kate? And what have we decided to watch?" Castle's voice interrupted and they both swung around to look at him as he crossed the room, neatly balancing three bowls in his hands.

"I want to watch _Mulan_ ," Alexis announced, "And I think Mulan is like Kate because she's brave and a warrior too."

Castle transferred his gaze to Kate to give her a look of open admiration that she somehow knew had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with her job and she felt herself flushing in spite of herself. Two votes of confidence. "I think you're right, pumpkin."

In order to distract from her blush, she hurriedly added, "I think the real story of Mulan is much cooler than what's in the movie."

Alexis turned to look up at her. "What's the real story?"

"Well, in the original story, Mulan did go to war in her father's place in order to save him but she wasn't found out so quickly. Instead, she was a soldier for more than ten years and was so good at it that she was promoted to being a general and her secret only came out when the emperor wanted to give her a special prize for saving the country from invaders."

"Really? I like that story better too."

Kate's eyes were drawn to Castle again who flashed her another look of approval but he addressed Alexis lightly, "Here's your ice cream, Alexis."

Alexis put the DVD into the player and then turned to accept her bowl of ice cream with one cookie planted like a flag in the center of the scoop. "Thanks, Daddy."

"You're welcome, pumpkin." He turned to Kate. "And one serving of my famous tiramisu for you, Officer Beckett."

The man really was getting an inordinate amount of fun out of her job title. "Famous tiramisu, according to whom?"

Castle bridled in mock offense. "Of course it's famous. I'm famous, world-famous even, and I made the tiramisu, therefore the tiramisu must be famous."

Kate snorted. "I don't think fame works like that."

"It does when I say it does," he declared loftily.

She rolled her eyes and Alexis giggled. "Silly Daddy."

He started the movie and the opening credits began. "Well, come on, try your dessert, and Alexis, your ice cream will melt if you don't eat it."

Kate duly took a bite of the tiramisu only to find her eyes fluttering closed and she had to bite back a moan of sheer pleasure. Oh wow. The tiramisu might not be famous but it should be, it was just that delicious. The combination of biscuit and cream just melted on her tongue and all of it was perfectly infused with the familiar (and yet somehow unfamiliar) taste of coffee. What kind of espresso had he used?

She opened her eyes to look at Castle, who was smirking as if he could read her thoughts on her face.

"Told you it was good," he said smugly.

At any other time, the smugness would probably have been irritating but with the taste still lingering in her mouth, proof that he had good reason to be smug, she couldn't feel annoyed. "You really made this yourself?"

"Actually, I kidnapped a pastry chef and forced him to make it so I could take the credit," he returned flippantly.

It was probably bad of her, since she was a cop after all, but she laughed anyway. "I see. Well, tell your hostage pastry chef that the tiramisu is amazing."

He grinned and Kate tried very hard not to notice the way his real, wide smile brightened the blue of his eyes and set off a renegade shower of sparks inside her. (No, it did not do any such thing. It was because of the tiramisu, yeah, that was it.)

"I'll make sure to pass on the message to my hostage pastry chef," he agreed with mock solemnity.

"Ssh, Daddy, the movie is starting," Alexis scolded him quietly.

Castle's expression softened and he leaned down to press a kiss to his daughter's hair.

They settled in to watch the movie. Castle finished his tiramisu and then settled his arm around Alexis, who easily nestled into his side, looking smaller and younger when compared to her father's broad bulk.

And Kate felt a pinch of pain at memories of her own younger self snuggling with her parents, watching _Temptation Lane_ with her mom, both curled up under a blanket, other times when she'd watched TV leaning against her dad. Her throat was suddenly tight and she had to blink and focus harder on the movie, seeking distraction. She had honestly forgotten most of the movie which made it easier to become interested and after a while, the knot of emotion in her chest dissipated and she was able to laugh along with Alexis and Castle at funny moments. Kate noted with some amusement that Castle appeared to be even more entertained than Alexis, mouthing along to the songs.

By the time the movie ended, Alexis was clearly beginning to fade, yawning a few times as she sagged into her father's side.

As the end credits started playing, Castle nudged Alexis gently. "Come on, sweetie, time for bed. You want me to carry you up?"

Alexis blinked a few times and stood up on her own. "No, Daddy, I'm awake."

Alexis turned to Kate with a small smile, fatigue making it less bright than it had been. "Thanks for coming to dinner and telling me more about your job and everything, Kate."

Kate returned Alexis's smile. "Thank you for inviting me, Alexis. I had a good time. Sleep well."

"Good night, Kate."

Castle placed a hand on Alexis's head. "Up to bed with you now."

Alexis nodded. "I'm going but you should stay down here with Kate since she's a guest. I can put myself to bed now, Daddy. I'm not a baby anymore."

Alexis missed the fleeting wince that crossed her father's face at this declaration but Kate didn't and quickly spoke up, "Actually, I need to use the restroom anyway so you might as well go on upstairs."

"Bathroom's right over there, Kate." Castle waved a hand to direct her and then nudged Alexis into moving while Kate quickly made herself scarce.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Castle was still upstairs with Alexis so she busied herself gathering up the empty bowls from their desserts and taking them to the kitchen, putting them in the sink, before drifting over to look at some of the book shelves, noting that Castle had a very extensive collection of mysteries, her eyes glancing over the pictures that also graced the shelves, almost all of them featuring Castle and Alexis from babyhood up to now. There were a few pictures that also included an older woman with hair as vibrantly red as Alexis's, who Kate guessed must be Castle's mother, the actress Martha Rodgers or "Grams," as Alexis had called her. There were no pictures of either Castle or Alexis with any other woman who might be Alexis's mother, somewhat conspicuous by its very absence, even in the pictures where Alexis was an infant. Kate supposed it might simply be a reflection of the fact that Castle was divorced; not many people would want to have a lot of pictures of their exes on display but the complete absence seemed a little extreme. Although from what little Castle had said about Alexis's mother not coming out for Thanksgiving, she imagined that Castle and his ex-wife didn't get along particularly well.

Why was she wondering about Castle's relationship with his ex-wife? Kate pulled herself up abruptly. It was absolutely none of her business, was personal, and she shouldn't even be thinking about Castle's personal life.

She focused her gaze on the books again. Really, if Castle had read even half the books on these shelves, he was remarkably well-read, not just in mysteries but in just about everything.

Even as she thought it, she heard steps behind her and turned to see Castle coming downstairs.

"Alexis asleep?"

"Yeah, she was out pretty much the moment her head hit the pillow. She said she'd like you to come over again." He smiled. "I think you're my daughter's new hero."

Kate smiled too, again feeling that flare of warmth around her heart. "I had fun tonight so I'd like to see her again."

"Good. We had fun tonight too. Things are going to be a little crazy with the holidays and I'm taking Alexis out to California for a few days to see her mom next week, once her school gets out for Christmas, so maybe sometime in January?"

January. Right. The reminder (not that she needed it) of the impending Anniversary made her heart twist but she forced a smile. And after all, maybe another dinner with Alexis and Castle would brighten up what was always the bleakest month of the year. "That sounds fine, Castle."

"Great. I'll tell Alexis tomorrow." He started to wash up their bowls from dessert and after a moment, asked quietly, "Can I ask, how is your dad?"

She blinked. "My dad?" she repeated dumbly.

He looked a little abashed. "I don't mean to be nosy," he said hurriedly. "I just couldn't help but overhear what you said to Alexis earlier about spending Christmas with your dad and I just… wondered. Sorry."

"He's fine," she managed and then even manufactured a faint smile. "He's done with rehab." _And he's still sober, at least for now._ But she left that unsaid.

Her dad was still sober. She had talked to him every other day since he'd finished rehab, calling him first on the Monday immediately after to ask how his first day back at work had been. And then she'd called again on Wednesday, ostensibly because a lawyer who worked for one of the criminal law firms in midtown had come up as a person of interest in a case and she'd wanted to ask her dad if he'd ever met or heard anything about the lawyer that might help shed light on his involvement, even though her dad didn't practice criminal law (that had been her mom's area.) Her dad hadn't known the guy's name, not that she'd cared or even been surprised since the lawyer was only 32 years old, of an entirely different generation of lawyer from her dad, but his existence had been as good an excuse as any. And she'd called again on Friday to ask about meeting up for lunch or dinner over the weekend and so on. She'd always had a reason for calling that wasn't checking on her dad's sobriety but she admitted, if only to herself, that was what she was doing. After the last few years, she could gauge her dad's sobriety to within one drink from just a few words, knew the tones of his voice, his way of speaking, from stone-cold sober to mellowed by just a drink or two all the way to incoherence. And every time she'd seen or talked to her dad, he'd still been sober. For now.

She loved her dad—she _did_ —she just… didn't trust him, not anymore. But that was a brutal truth she was never ever going to give voice to, not to her dad, not to Lanie, not to Castle, not to anyone ever.

She shoved aside the emotions that always swamped her at the thought of her dad and schooled her expression into blandness. "Will you spend Christmas out in California then?"

He blinked. "No, no, Alexis and I will be back in time to spend Christmas with my mother." He paused. "I'm… glad that your dad's doing well."

She manufactured another smile for his benefit. "Me too." It wasn't a lie, at least. "Anyway, I should probably go. I had a long day at work and need to be back at it bright and early tomorrow. Thanks for dinner and dessert. It was all delicious."

"Oh, you're welcome. In fact, why don't you take some tiramisu home with you?" He put on an expression of exaggerated pleading. "Please, Kate, save me from myself because otherwise, I will eat all the rest of the tiramisu by myself and then I'll hate myself."

She hesitated for a fleeting second. "Oh but—"

He swept the fridge open and gestured inside to a neat row of no fewer than six ramekins of tiramisu. "There's plenty of it left and you already know Alexis won't help me finish it."

She gave in. The tiramisu had been too good. She couldn't resist. "Yes, all right, thanks."

"Thank you, Kate," he gushed with as much emphasis as if she'd just done him a huge favor. "And I'll transfer it into some tupperware so you won't even need to worry about returning any bowls," he added, suiting action to the words and taking out not one but three of the bowls of tiramisu, along with a plastic container from a cabinet.

She was going to need to work out for an extra two hours at least this week to make up for it but she didn't resist.

The tiramisu was just that good.

Her eyes seemed to want to watch the play of muscles on his arms as he scooped the tiramisu out of the bowls and into the plastic container but that would be stupid and Kate deliberately averted her eyes to focus on the fridge doors, which was a space devoted to Alexis's achievements. She noticed a spelling test on which Alexis had received an A+, a math test adorned with a red 98% along with 'Terrific!', a blue ribbon for first prize in something, Alexis's latest school picture, and a hand-drawn Father's Day card. She felt a sharp tug of bittersweet emotion at the sight; she remembered when her own parents' fridge had been similarly decorated. Her gaze wandered on to the Christmas tree, cataloguing all the ornaments that looked as if they'd been made by Alexis. It was easier to look at the Christmas tree than it was the evidence of Castle's pride in Alexis.

"Okay, all set and here you are," Castle announced.

Kate blinked and turned to accept the tupperware, full of tiramisu. "Thanks, Castle."

He waved that aside. "No, thank you. I made way too much for just me to eat. Now, let's go get your gun, Annie."

Kate laughed, somehow (amazingly) at ease again. "'Anything you can do, I can do better,'" she quipped in a sing-song tone.

He laughed. "'There's no business like show business,'" he returned, not missing a beat.

"'You can't get a man with a gun,'" she shot back and grinned at him, feeling a spurt of camaraderie, because yeah, she just liked him. And it had nothing to do with the kind of father he was or even what he looked like but had everything to do with the simple pleasure of being able to match wits with him.*

He returned her smile. "Very good, Officer, you pass the test," he joked.

"Do you always make your dinner guests pass a test?"

He gave her a look of mock confusion. "Well, how else am I supposed to figure out if they're allowed to come back?"

"And the test is to identify songs from a musical?"

"Excuse me, I am not that predictable. I switch between a variety of tests," he announced with affected pomposity.

She scoffed. "Has anyone ever told you that you're ridiculous?"

"Uh huh," he said airily as if it were a compliment. "Alexis tells me that frequently."

She laughed. "Alexis is a smart girl."

In the blink of an eye, his expression switched to his 'proud dad' look. "Yeah, she is."

He waved her into his study and again moved to open up the safe to remove her gun.

"This is still so cool!" he exclaimed as he passed her gun to her.

She rolled her eyes. "You are really getting way too much of a kick out of my job, Castle."

"Oh come on, Kate! I just got to hand you your gun! And you showed us your handcuffs and told us about arresting people!"

"What are you, a 12-year-old?"

He made a face at her as if to answer her question but then immediately sobered, belying the answer. "Say, I wanted to ask, do you prefer being called Kate or Beckett? I remembered that your friend Lanie called you Beckett and you introduced yourself over the phone first as Beckett."

"Beckett is what people call me at work and I guess I am more used to being called Beckett but since I'm not on duty, it's fine if you keep on calling me Kate."

He nodded. "Well, I guess Alexis can call you Kate and there's no need to confuse her so I'll probably mostly stick with calling you Kate too but I might call you Beckett from time to time. It sounds more cop-like, badass, the way I bet you are at work," he added with a grin.

She laughed in spite of herself. "Thanks, I think."

"Oh, it's a compliment, Beckett," he returned with a slight emphasis on her name.

They had reached the front door and she turned to face him as he opened it for her. "Thanks again for dinner, Castle, and thank Alexis again for me tomorrow. And thanks for the tiramisu. I had a good time."

"We had fun too so no thanks necessary," he said easily.

She hesitated, now feeling a little return of awkwardness. Should she shake his hand? After a second, she finally just stepped outside the loft and lifted a hand in a small wave. "Thanks again. Have a good night, Castle."

"You'll be all right getting home?"

She raised her eyebrows at him, gesturing to the gun on her hip. "I'm a cop, Castle."

He looked a little sheepish. "Yeah, of course. Sorry, force of habit. Blame it on being a dad."

Or just a chivalrous guy. She smiled. "Good night, Castle."

"Take care of yourself, Beckett. See you around."

The elevator door opened and she gave him a last smile and wave, which he returned.

Kate stepped onto the elevator and leaned back against the wall as the doors slid closed.

Richard freaking Castle. She inwardly laughed a little to herself but yeah, she liked him and she liked his daughter and she thought this friendship that seemed to have formed would be good for her. She felt oddly… cleansed, for lack of a better word, as if all the squalor and seediness she'd seen on the job today had been washed away, leaving her mood, her outlook, generally brighter. Alexis's bright smiles and cheerful prattle were, well, luminous, bringing her own version of light and cheer into Kate's life and that was a good thing.

And yes—she glanced at the tupperware of tiramisu she was holding—she was looking forward to their next dinner already.

 _~To be continued…~_

* * *

*Kate and Castle's exchange consists of song titles from the musical "Annie, Get Your Gun."

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: This is something of a transitional chapter so not much actually happens but I hope people will forgive me for it considering what it's setting up.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 10_

"Why, darling, you're home early!"

Castle looked up at his mother's bright welcome, inwardly wincing again at his mother's dress that was a vivid green splashed with fuchsia. The green was okay, if very bright, but the fuchsia clashed with his mother's red hair and the entire effect was, well, something less than visually pleasing. Not that he would ever say so to his mother. He already had one woman in his life angry at him; he didn't need another one.

His mother appeared to be idly channel surfing the TV but she set aside the remote at his entrance. "I thought you'd be accompanying Gina back to her place after your dinner." His mother, as much as possible, didn't accompany the statement with a knowing look but he still found himself wanting to squirm. Ugh, it really just did get not get any less horrifying, that using his mother as a baby-sitter meant that she knew far too much about his love life.

He opted to ignore the implied question, for his own sanity's sake. He didn't want to talk about his argument with Gina with his mother. "Is Alexis in bed?"

"Yes, of course, Richard. What do you take me for? I tucked her in myself just minutes ago."

He managed a smile of thanks for his mother. "Thanks, mother. I'll just go up and look in on her."

"Do try not to wake her up."

He paused on the stairs to glance back at her. "Yes, mother, I know."

Mindful that Alexis might be asleep (and of course he'd known that without his mother mentioning it), he was careful to keep his steps quiet on the stairs and the hallway and he eased Alexis's door open slowly, meaning only to duck his head in to check on her. And if she was asleep, he might venture in further and just watch her sleep for a while, let the even sound of her breathing soothe his abraded temper.

But it turned out all his effort was for nothing as the moment he peeked into Alexis's room, she popped up in bed. "Daddy, you're home!"

He smiled, a flare of warmth settling around his heart. He adored the way Alexis greeted him when he returned home with as much joy as if he'd been gone for months. Sadly, he expected it would only last for another couple years at most before she started to find his company tiresome (he inwardly flinched at the thought) but oh well, he would enjoy it while it lasted. He ventured fully into the room. "Yes, I'm home, pumpkin. I decided I'd rather spend the rest of my evening with my favorite girl."

He thought he'd sounded his usual self but his daughter tilted her head to one side in one of her thoughtful poses and displayed one of her occasional flashes of emotional insight that had him simultaneously wanting to hide and marvel at her. "Did you have a fight with Gina? You seem upset."

He knelt by her bedside, bringing him more on a level with Alexis. And answered as he always did with Alexis: told the truth. Albeit a limited truth. "Yes, we had a little fight, about some grown-up stuff. But don't worry about it."

Predictably, this attempt to downplay the argument didn't work. "You always tell me that lots of times, people say silly things they don't really mean so we shouldn't be too quick to get angry or assume the worst." She paused and then added with a change of tone, "And you say silly things most of the time, Daddy."

He laughed and felt the last lingering vestiges of his irritation dissipate. Yeah, his daughter really was magic. Even in the relatively infrequent times when Alexis herself was the source of some irritation, she could make it go away by smiling at him or making one of her preternaturally solemn statements or hugging him. "All right, pumpkin, you win. I'll talk to Gina, I promise."

Alexis nodded. "Good. I don't like it when you're upset."

"I don't like it when I'm upset either." He wrapped his arms around Alexis, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, I think it's time for you to be asleep."

"I know, Daddy. It's past my bedtime. I just wanted to welcome you home but I'll sleep now."

He suppressed a smile at how serious she sounded and waited as she lay back down before he tucked the blankets in around her, finishing by smoothing a hand down her hair. "There you go, all tucked in, snug as a bug in a rug," he announced.

He was rewarded with the little giggle that she always gave when he used the silly rhyme. "Goodnight, pumpkin."

"Night, Daddy."

Alexis yawned and snuggled down further into bed and he quietly crept out of her room, closing the door behind him.

Out in the hallway, Castle fell back against the wall, taking a moment. Oh fine, he was avoiding his mother who was waiting downstairs, no doubt bursting to question him on why he was home earlier than he'd said he would be.

Instead he reflected on the disaster that this dinner date with Gina had turned into. It had started out fine, great even, as Gina had been wearing a new dress that showed off her figure and he'd been reminded again that Gina was a gorgeous woman, one who always drew men's eyes with her shining blond hair, svelte figure, and smoothly feminine features.

Too bad that Gina's appearance had pretty much been the highlight of the evening and things had pretty much gone downhill from there.

They got through appetizers and the first bites of the main course with light conversation, interrupted a couple times by people stopping by to say hello since, as usual, the place was one of the rollicking new hot spots where people went to see and be seen. Gina was at her best in these moments, always smoothly poised and charming and knowing exactly what to say to whom. He sometimes thought seeing her like that was when he admired her most. He was a people person himself but he occasionally ran into trouble when his sense of humor or his unreliable filter got the better of him. Not so for Gina, whose public persona never seemed to falter.

The trouble had started when the others drifted away and left them to their main meals because Gina had turned the conversation to Derrick Storm, or more specifically, to his plans for the next Storm book since the suggested plot outline for it was due in just a couple weeks. He had really been hoping that Gina wouldn't bring it up yet but of course, he was just not that lucky or maybe Gina had some weird sixth sense that told her what he didn't want to talk about and then she talked about it. Oh, he knew he had a tendency to procrastinate and avoid but sometimes, it really could be damnably annoying.

He'd evaded as much as possible, to Gina's irritation, and then deliberately changed the subject and suggested that maybe their next date could be at a more casual place, the sort of place that most people didn't need to try to reserve months in advance, the sort of place that didn't exclusively cater to the rich and famous and well-connected. She'd blinked at him as if he'd suggested they go to Antarctica.

The exchange had slowly deteriorated from there as he'd finally asked her baldly why she always wanted to go to these glitzy places and Gina had shot back, "Because it's good for business."

She had later tried to justify it by saying it was his career she was thinking of, which was good for him, but he hadn't exactly been in a conciliatory mood by that point and they'd both lost their tempers. They'd spent the rest of dinner arguing in hissed whispers. They hadn't stayed for dessert and he'd seen Gina into the private car he'd reserved but then not gotten into it with her with the caustic comment, "I don't think it would be good for business for us to spend more time together tonight." He'd then slammed the car door and stalked off.

Good for business. He felt another flare of irritation but it was a little tempered now thanks to those few minutes with Alexis. Remembered Alexis's wise words about giving people the benefit of the doubt.

He grimaced. Now that he was somewhat calmer, he didn't think Gina had meant to sound as crass as she had. He did believe that Gina cared about him, wasn't dating him only for publicity or something like that. She wanted what she thought was best for him and, yes, his career too. From her perspective, there was nothing wrong with combining some good publicity with a nice date night.

And really, was there anything wrong with that? There wasn't, was there? When you cared about someone, you wanted what was best for them. And it was possible to have more than one arrow to their bow—or whatever metaphor might work better.

And yet…

It didn't sit entirely right with him either. He wasn't sure exactly why. Why did it bother him that his girlfriend wanted him to be successful? That was a good thing after all. It wasn't like he wanted a girlfriend who wouldn't want his career to do well.

And yet… The words still niggled at him.

Ugh, he was just thinking in circles and he couldn't keep delaying—oh fine, hiding from his mother for much longer.

He made a face and returned downstairs to see his mother had—now why didn't this surprise him?—opened up a bottle of wine—an expensive bottle of wine, he noted with a touch of aggravation—and poured two glasses, handing one to him. "Here, you looked like you could use this, kiddo."

"Thank you, Mother," he accepted the glass with just the faintest tinge of irony in his voice. "What gave me away?"

"Coming home early on a date night isn't a good sign. Now, what happened? Did you and Gina have a fight?"

"Mother… I'd really rather not talk about it."

Predictably, his mother ignored his admittedly mild attempt at deflection. "Oh, you did have a fight. What happened? Did you say something that made Gina angry?"

"Me? Why would you assume I said something?"

"I know you too well. Now, stop evading the question. What happened?"

He sighed. On second thought, he should have stayed upstairs. Too late now. "Gina and I had a fight, that's all."

"A fight or a _fight_?"

He was really too tired for this sort of riddle. "How many glasses of wine have you had, Mother? You're not making sense."

His mother, entirely unfazed, only arched her eyebrows at him. "I mean, is it a fight about something you can fix or is it a fight about something you can't?"

"We can fix it," he answered automatically, immediately. "We will fix it. I'll talk to her tomorrow." Give Gina time to stop being angry, since Gina didn't have the benefit of a child who could magically make anger go away.

"What was the fight about?"

Restaurant choices—but put like that, it really did sound amazingly petty. He didn't know what was bothering him so much about the whole issue except it was. "Nothing important," he finally answered. "We just lost our tempers. It was stupid and it'll blow over."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

Did every grown man need to put up with an interrogation from his mother after a date gone wrong? "I'm not," he denied flatly. "Really. It was just a silly fight. It happens. Gina and I will be fine."

Of course they would be fine. Why wouldn't they be fine? He and Gina made a perfect couple really; they had lots of common interests and worked in the same industry, so to speak, so they understood each other's lives and they got along well (or at least, they usually did). And Gina liked Alexis and didn't fawn over her and would make a good role model for Alexis too, as a successful career woman.

It was his mother's turn to sigh. "If you say so, Richard. Just remember you have Alexis to think about too."

"I always remember Alexis," he protested, truthfully enough.

"And what about this new friend of yours, Kate?"

He blinked at his mother. "What about Kate?" How had Kate become a part of this conversation? He thought, not for the first time, that sometimes, his mother really needed to come with a translator.

"That's what I'm asking you. What about Kate? Alexis must have spent at least half an hour tonight talking about her, exclaiming over how smart and cool she is."

Alexis had? He smiled in spite of himself—and yeah, that was partly at the thought of Kate. Because she was smart and cool and good with Alexis too. "She's a friend. Alexis likes her."

"I see." His mother finished her wine. "Spending too much time with another woman when you already have a girlfriend could lead to trouble."

"Mother! What kind of man do you take me for? You know I wouldn't—Kate is not 'the other woman' and I would never do that. Really, Mother," he grumbled. Why had he decided to talk to his mother again? Oh yeah, he hadn't decided any such thing; he just hadn't had a choice.

Predictably his mother acted as if she hadn't heard. "You might not intend it but you ought to know by now that emotions aren't so easily controlled and if you and Gina are getting into arguments..."

"Your faith in me is overwhelming," he said sarcastically.

His mother waved a hand. "It's just a word of warning. I hope you know what you're doing, kiddo."

Yeah, that made two of them. "Thank you, Mother. I'll be fine. I'll make it up with Gina and Kate and I are only friends. Anyway, I think Kate's a little young for me," he added, although it was more to deflect his mother than because he meant it. He wasn't sure how old Kate was other than knowing she was certainly younger than he was. The first night they'd met, he'd guessed she was barely out of college, which would make her too young for him; she'd looked so young and vulnerable. But since then, after seeing her in her uniform and hearing her talk about her job, he'd revised his initial estimate of her age to be in her late 20's, which wasn't too young at all.

Not that it really mattered because whatever his mother thought, he and Kate were only friends. Kate had nothing to do with whatever had been off between him and Gina tonight. And anyway, Kate knew perfectly well that he had a girlfriend and somehow he was sure that Kate Beckett was not the kind of girl to get involved with a man who was already with someone else.

"All right, if you say so." His mother finished up her wine. "I think it's time for me to head home."

"Let me call a car for you."

His mother waved a dismissive hand at him. "No need for that, Richard. I'm a New Yorker. I'll just take a cab."

"I'll call a car for you," he repeated and as usual, his mother gave in.

"Well, if you insist." She came around the island and paused in front of him to study him and lifted one beringed hand to cup his cheek in one of her occasional affectionate gestures that always reminded him of his younger days, the days when she'd been all he had. "Oh, darling, I just don't want to see you get hurt."

He softened into a smile and bent to hug his mother, bussing her cheek. "I know, Mother." As much as his mother sometimes—often—irritated him, he knew she meant well. "Thanks for watching Alexis tonight."

"Nonsense, Richard. You know how much I love my girl and I don't get to see her nearly often enough." And that too was why he put up with his mother. Whatever else, he would forgive his mother a lot for the way she showered Alexis with affection.

He released his mother and called a car for her and with a last wave, his mother was sailing out the door.

Left alone, Castle directed his steps to his office. Gina's questioning had only served to remind him that he really did need to get a handle on the plot for the next Derrick Storm book. His eyes fixed on the depressingly blank white board, no more filled now than it had been a week ago when Kate had seen it and asked about his brainstorming.

He wished he was brainstorming. No, the few random words he'd written out were only possible plot points in the vain hope that something about seeing the words written out would trigger something in his mind. They hadn't. He still had nothing.

Actually, it was worse than that. He grimaced. It wasn't just about not having a plot; it was this growing, nagging sense that he didn't even want to come up with a plot, at least not involving Derrick Storm. Derrick Storm had been cool, sure, the super CIA agent with the gadgets and the edgy quips, had made Castle rich beyond his ambitions, but the coolness factor was palling on Castle. Was this really all there was? To Storm, to Clara Strike?

Clara Strike. Sophia. Her image flashed into his mind, tinged as usual now with the tang of disappointment. So beautiful, so inspiringly competent—and so cold. Going about her job and being damn good at it because she was too clever not to be and at first, he'd been so… enthralled, drawn in by her talent and, yes, her looks, only to find that she was something like a hollow shell, no higher purpose to her, no ideals, no deeper emotion—or if there had been, she'd kept them all well hidden. A façade of an amazing woman but with little real substance behind the glossy exterior.

He had tried damn hard to change that for Clara Strike's character, soften her abrasiveness, give her more, well, humanity. He hoped he'd succeeded.

But he was, depressingly, starting to feel as if he'd failed to do that for Derrick. Derrick Storm was a young man's dream—a young writer's dream—the swashbuckling hero with the fancy gadgets, beautiful women, and cool cars—but after 9 books of that, Castle was starting to find it boring. Storm was a one-note character.

Not for the first time, Castle found himself toying with the idea of moving on from Storm, a fatal shot, a final ending. Ironic that the latest book was called _Storm's Last Stand_ and it was only after he was done with it, that Castle started seriously considering writing an actual 'last stand' for Storm, full stop, the end.

He still owed Black Pawn one more Storm book under the last contract and he knew Gina would probably kill him if he didn't produce it. Gina had already started hinting that Black Pawn was interested in another multi-book deal for Storm (unsurprisingly, since Storm was one of the most lucrative characters they'd ever published) so they likely wouldn't be pleased if he declined another book deal for Storm but before he could do that, he still needed to write another Storm book to fulfill the current contract.

And after that—well, he didn't know. If Black Pawn really became insistent, he knew he could churn out more Storm books even though he was afraid they would be formulaic. He could do it; he knew how to write that sort of mystery/thriller formula and Storm was an established enough character that the books would still sell. He made a face. He could do that, yes, but he didn't want to.

He stared at the white board some more and then sighed. God, he missed the days when the words and ideas crowded into his mind so fast it was as much as he could do to type fast enough to keep up with the rush. That didn't happen anymore—and he was left staring at a white board, waiting for inspiration that didn't come.

* * *

Kate made it through the holidays. And her dad was still sober. Which was really all that she'd wanted or cared about.

Her Christmas was uneventful, if a little bleak. She worked the Christmas Eve shift, as always, and wasn't called out to any scenes and on Christmas Day, her dad came over to her apartment for the first time since he'd gotten out of rehab and she cooked and they had an early dinner and then watched a non-Christmas movie together. It wasn't entirely comfortable but it wasn't excruciating either—and her dad was still sober—so that was good enough.

And now it was the Anniversary.

She didn't have the seniority yet to arrange her schedule to take it off but she'd volunteered to take the overnight shift the night before so she'd finished her shift at 6 a.m. and returned to her apartment for a few hours of uneasy sleep, punctuated by nightmares of dark alleys and faceless killers with flashing knives and her mother's screams.

She had a quiet lunch with her dad at a small place not far from his office since her dad was working, trying to distract himself, although neither of them put that into words. They didn't talk much but oddly, it might have been the easiest meal she'd shared with her dad since he'd left rehab because for once, she simply didn't have it in her to pretend cheer and she didn't try. They didn't mention her mom or anything but it was the unacknowledged ghostly presence behind the desultory conversation.

Afterwards, she went to the cemetery, staring at the simple stone starkly summarizing her mom's life for an hour even as a light misty rain began to fall, until she wasn't sure if the dampness on her face was from her tears or the misting rain. By the time she left, she'd been thoroughly wet and cold but what did that matter compared to the inner chill from the constant thought that her mom was gone, would always be gone, and her mom's killer was no closer to being caught?

Now home, Kate curled up on her couch, once more warm, at least on the outside, thanks to a hot shower and being dressed in her softest, warmest sweater and comfortable yoga pants. She attempted to watch TV but couldn't focus on it and after a while, turned it off and turned instead to her bookshelf, grabbing _A Season for Slaughter._ It wasn't actually one of her favorites of Castle's works but she loved it because it was her mom's copy and today, of all days, she wanted to feel closer to her mom. So she could try to pretend she could hear her mom's comments or her mom's soft laughter at occasional funny lines. Could picture the faint line that would crease her mom's forehead when she was really engrossed in something. But she ended up not so much reading it as skimming it, if that, occasionally too blinded by the tears welling in her eyes to even see the words on the page.

When her phone rang, Kate jolted so hard she almost fell off the couch. Who the hell would be calling her today? It couldn't be work and Lanie knew better than to disturb her—oh god. She felt a stab of stark terror at the thought that it could be her dad, that he might have relapsed after all, might not have been able to make it through this entire painful day without liquid anesthesia.

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks and grabbed for her phone and then relaxed at the sight of the caller ID. It was Castle.

She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and fought to sound normal as she answered. "Beckett."

"Kate, hi, it's Rick Castle. Are you busy right now?"

"No, it's fine. What is it?" Kate straightened up. He sounded… off. None of the good humor she associated with him. He sounded… stressed, worried. She was a little surprised at the strength of the concern she felt at the thought. He sounded stressed and was calling her, a cop. Oh god, had something happened to Alexis? "Is Alexis okay?"

"Alexis is fine, thanks," he reassured quickly. "I just… have a big favor to ask. Are you working tonight?"

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Look, I know this is last minute and I totally understand if you can't but it would be a huge help to me if you could watch Alexis tonight?" he blurted out in a rush.

She blinked. What? He wanted her to watch Alexis, as in babysit? He was trusting her alone with his daughter? Already?

He apparently took her bemused silence as a bad sign because he rushed on. "I know, it's really last minute and not fair to you but I'm going on the Bobby Mann show tonight and Alexis's usual babysitter just called to say that she's in the hospital with a broken arm and so can't come watch Alexis after all and Alexis's best friend Paige's family is out so Alexis can't go over to her house and my mother has a show tonight and her understudy is out sick this week so it won't be easy for my mother to get out of the show although she said she would work something out if I absolutely couldn't find anyone else and then Alexis suggested that maybe you could watch her because who better to keep her safe than a cop and—"

"Slow down, Castle," she finally managed to interrupt this onslaught of words, evidence if she'd needed it of how worried he was. Castle might be talkative but even he didn't usually speak in full on paragraphs without punctuation. "Of course I can watch Alexis this evening."

She never saw anyone aside from her dad on The Anniversary but this was different and aside from liking Castle and Alexis, she had thought she owed them for their unwitting help in providing grounds for conversation with her dad on the drive back from the rehab center. This was her chance to repay the debt and they wouldn't need to know.

She was going to need to try to seem cheerful, her usual self, but she could do that, right? She'd had to work on The Anniversary before and needed to clamp down on her emotions behind her precinct shell; she could do that again. She could help. And Castle really did sound stressed, as if he'd just about reached the end of his tether. She could help, could make sure that Alexis was in safe hands.

"You will? Oh _thank you_ , Kate."

He couldn't have sounded any more grateful if she'd just carried him and his puppy out of a burning building.

"It's fine, Castle. I'm happy to spend some time with Alexis." The odd thing was, she realized belatedly, that it was true. She never saw anyone on The Anniversary, never wanted to see anyone on The Anniversary, but somehow, the thought of seeing Alexis and Castle, even if briefly, today didn't seem like it would be a hardship. It might even… help? No, no one had ever been a help on The Anniversary; she'd never had that and she didn't expect she ever would. She wasn't someone who needed company to make her happy anyway. No, it was just a favor, a kind thing to do for a friend. But whatever the reason, somehow she didn't mind the idea of seeing the Castles today.

"Really, thank you, Kate. I owe you one. You'll have to come over for dinner again sometime when it won't be a chore and I'll make tiramisu again for you and sign some of my books for you and—"

She dug in and managed to summon some of her normal demeanor. "I'll take you up on the tiramisu but not on the signed books, Castle," she interrupted, a dry edge entering her voice.

"But if you're such a fan of my books…" Oh, now he sounded more like his usual teasing self.

"Not that big of a fan," she retorted, feeling the bleak fog of misery enveloping her lighten just a little, his humor breaking through it like a shaft of sunlight through the clouds. God, how did he do that? How did he manage to make her feel (almost) like smiling with just a few words?

"Oh fine, just dinner and tiramisu then," he pretended to grumble and then switched to practicalities. "They told me to get to the studio by 8:30 so would it be okay if you come over in about an hour?"

"I can do that," she agreed.

"Great. Seriously, thank you, Kate. You're a life-saver. My agent would probably have shot me if I'd needed to cancel this booking."

"You're welcome but really, you don't need to keep thanking me. It'll be nice to see Alexis again. I'll see you in about an hour."

"See you then, Kate."

Kate ended the call and then blinked at her phone for a second. Castle was going to be on the Bobby Mann show. He must be promoting his next book, which was going to be released next week.

She was friends with someone who was going to be one of the celebrity guests on the Bobby Mann show. Crazy thought.

But even so, she deliberately set her DVR to record the Bobby Mann show. Not that she was ever going to admit to Castle that she'd done such a thing.

That done, she changed into jeans, washed her face to ensure no trace of tears was visible and put on some light makeup to conceal her pallor.

She could do this. She wanted to do this, spend The Anniversary with a perfectly innocent, happy child. It was… a favor for a friend, the sort of thing her mother would have done. Pain twisted in her chest. The sort of thing her mom would have wanted her to do.

Her mom would have wanted her to do this so she would—she could—be perfectly normal and happy-seeming and ensure that at least one kid was properly looked after.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Before anyone wonders, no, this is not going to echo canon and Bobby Mann is not going to die. I just figured it would make sense that Castle would have been on the Bobby Mann show before to promote his books back when Bobby Mann was closer to the height of his popularity.

As always, thank you to all readers and reviewers.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Fair warning, this is a somewhat heavier, more emotional chapter.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 11_

Castle still had his Christmas decorations up.

It was the first thing she saw when she stepped out of the elevator, making Kate's step—and her heartbeat—falter a little. She couldn't exactly say it surprised her that Castle, like her mom—the errant thought made pain twist in her chest but it was true that somehow, in some ways, Castle reminded her of her mom—didn't like taking Christmas decorations down and kept them up as long as possible. She had to pause in the hall and count out her own breaths for a few seconds to regain control of her emotions but she managed it before knocking.

Castle opened the door and for one definable instant, Kate's stupid, traitorous senses leaped at the sight of him because—oh geez—the man looked _good_ in a suit. He was clearly dressed to impress in an obviously expensive, well-tailored suit that showcased his height and his broad shoulders and a dark maroon shirt that seemed designed to make the blue of his eyes seem brighter by contrast.

In the next second, she'd firmly wrestled her senses into control and realized that his expression didn't exactly match his dapper appearance. He looked stressed, less the charming celebrity man-about-town and more a single father just trying to take care of his kid. He looked more like the worried father she'd first met than the cheerful, hyper-excitable man she had seen since, the one who seemed as if he had never suffered a moment's worry over being a single father raising a daughter alone.

"Kate, hi, thanks again for agreeing to watch Alexis tonight."

"Hey, Castle."

He stepped back and waved her in, turning his head to address Alexis. "Alexis, Kate's here."

Alexis was sitting on the couch, watching an animated movie involving what looked like insects, but she turned to greet Kate, although her smile was somewhat wan. "Hi, Kate."

"Hi, Alexis."

Hm, it appeared that something was off, even more than just the babysitter troubles. Alexis's whole demeanor was subdued and her expression as she watched the movie glum, unamused at whatever was going on.

Kate glanced at Castle, who grimaced and gestured for her to follow him across the room to the kitchen, allowing for a bit of privacy, although he kept up a steady stream of conversation as they walked.

"We've already had our dinner. Have you eaten, Kate? Yes? Well, there's plenty of food in the fridge if you get hungry or ice cream in the freezer if you just want some dessert. Alexis's bedtime is at 9, which you might remember from last time you were here. I'll have my cell phone so you can call me if anything comes up."

They had reached the kitchen and Castle glanced back at Alexis before lowering his voice. "Sorry. Alexis doesn't really like it when I have to go out at nights so that's why she's in a mood tonight. She wouldn't take it out on you, though, so don't worry about it."

"I wasn't worried," she answered truthfully. "I doubt Alexis would ever be too much trouble."

That got her a brief smile. "Yeah, I've lucked out with her." He raised his voice back to normal as he went on, "I think I should be home a little after 11. I hope that's okay, not too late for you or anything?"

"It's fine, Castle." She managed a somewhat dry smile. "I don't have a curfew anymore." Not that she'd had anyone to enforce a curfew in years, even if she had one. She cut off the thought.

"Okay, good. Really, thanks for doing this."

"Stop thanking me, Castle. It's fine." She summoned as bright a smile as she could manage, which wasn't very but it was something. "I didn't have anything planned tonight anyway and I'm sure spending time with Alexis will be more fun than the solitary movie night I was going to have."

He relaxed into a smile. "Probably. Alexis is pretty fun, even when she's cranky." He glanced at the clock and made a face. "I need to get going before I'm late. The number of Alexis's pediatrician is posted on the fridge, just in case, and you have my number if you need it."

He turned and walked over to Alexis, crouching down in front of her. "Okay, Alexis, I need to leave now and like we already talked about, I'll be back late but I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow morning, okay? And how about strawberry happy-face pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?"

Richard Castle made something called strawberry happy-face pancakes for his daughter? He really wasn't at all what Page Six made him out to be, was he? The offer got a flicker of a smile from Alexis. "Okay, Daddy." She tipped forward to hug him and he wrapped his arms around her, his eyes briefly closing while Kate averted her eyes, abruptly feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

Castle released Alexis after a moment and stood up, although he cupped Alexis's face in his hands and bent to press a kiss to her hair. "Have fun with Kate, baby bird, and I'll see you tomorrow morning, all right?"

Alexis gave her dad a brighter smile. "We will, Daddy. You go and be charming."

Castle laughed and finally stepped away to the door. "I'll try, Alexis. Good night, pumpkin." His gaze moved on to Kate. "See you later, Kate."

"Have fun on TV, Castle."

With a last glance at Alexis, Castle departed for fame and fortune—or well, more fame and fortune—and Kate settled next to Alexis on the couch.

"So what are you watching?" she asked with manufactured brightness.

"It's _A Bug's Life_. Have you seen it before, Kate? Because if you haven't, we can start it from the beginning so you'll understand."

Oh shit. She hadn't remembered, hadn't recognized the movie. Kate reacted to the title like it was a blow to the sternum, only just keeping back a gasp of mingled pain and surprise. She couldn't keep up her smile but she did manage to answer, "That's okay, Alexis. I've seen it before." She didn't sound like herself to her own ears but she hoped that the girl wouldn't notice.

"Okay." Alexis turned back to watching the movie and Kate blindly turned her eyes to the screen, focusing on not letting the tears pricking at the back of her eyes, tightening her throat, appear.

She had seen the movie before in theatres, a few weeks after its release more than six years ago. The memory rose up and swamped her—her younger self, home after her first semester at Stanford, her mom teasing her into going to watch the new animated movie. _Come on, Katie, watch the movie with us. It'll be fun and after all, it's about bugs and you're still our little Katie-bug, aren't you?_ Kate had huffed and bridled against the use of the childish nickname but she had agreed to watch the movie with her parents, somewhat petulantly, and then spent much of the time in positively morbid terror that she might be seen by someone―watching a silly animated movie and watching a silly, animated movie with her own parents at that, the horrors! But in spite of her attitude, she had (reluctantly) ended up enjoying the movie and her mom certainly had. But her mom had been like that, ever ready to lay down her burdens and find joy. Her throat closed on a spasm of pain; Kate wasn't like her mom, not in that-and that hurt too.

Now, Kate stared at the screen, slowly becoming aware of the action of the movie, even as she seemed to hear echoing in her mind the old childhood endearment, Katie-bug. No one had called her that in almost ten years. Her parents had mostly stopped using the endearment in her teenage years and then—well, her parents were the only ones who had ever called her that. No one really used a nickname or an endearment of any kind with her at all anymore. Lanie occasionally called her "girl" or "honey" but it wasn't the same, was just Lanie's way. And it wasn't like Kate had ever been someone who much liked nicknames or endearments anyway but the thought that there was no one who would even think to call her by an endearment seemed rather… bleak.

She shoved it aside and tried very hard to herd all her emotions behind a steel triple-padlocked door, with less success than usual, but she at least succeeded enough to pay a modicum of attention to the movie and to Alexis beside her. And she found it helped, her spirits lifting a little with every smile that crossed Alexis's face, every giggle the girl released, as if the girl's enjoyment of the movie was at least a little contagious. Kate couldn't say she was happy or even enjoying herself but she wasn't actively unhappy either and for The Anniversary, that was more than enough.

The movie neatly passed the time until it was almost Alexis's bedtime and Kate was the one to retrieve the DVD and return it to the cabinet as Alexis was beginning to droop a little.

She returned to the couch and put a hand on Alexis's shoulder, making the girl blink and straighten up a little. "'m awake, Kate."

"I can see that," Kate said solemnly, suppressing a smile. "Did you have a good Christmas vacation, Alexis?" she asked.

Alexis nodded. "Yeah, I did. Daddy and I went to California for a few days."

"Yes, I heard. Did you have fun with your mom in California?"

Alexis's expression immediately fell and Kate bit her lip. She'd said something wrong. Had something happened to Alexis's mom? "Mommy was too busy to see me much so instead, Daddy took me to Disneyland and to the beach."

Alexis's mom had been too busy to spend time with her daughter when she flew across the country to visit? Kate couldn't imagine such a thing and for the first time, found an odd measure of something like comfort on The Anniversary at the thought that she'd been so lucky in her mom. Her mom had been busy, yes, but Kate had never doubted her place in her mom's life, never doubted her mom's love. The thought hurt, sent a spasm of pain through her chest, but for once, she was more concerned over someone else and it helped in a strange way. The reminder that there were other, different ways in which parents could hurt their children. Maybe The Anniversary really had made her selfish but somehow, it felt… oddly good to feel such compassion, empathy, for someone else on this day on which she was usually focused so much on her own loss.

Kate slipped a tentative arm around Alexis's small shoulders. "Did you like Disneyland, Alexis? I've never been."

That distracted the girl, as she'd hoped, and Alexis's eyes widened. "Oh really, Kate? Disneyland was lots of fun. Daddy was so silly sometimes, he was so excited when we met Mickey and Goofy."

Yeah, Kate could picture that. He could be such an excitable man-child. But she did wonder if Castle hadn't acted out more than he otherwise might have in order to distract Alexis. It seemed like the sort of thing he would do.

"I see. That does sound like fun. I want to hear more about it but it's getting close to your bedtime, Alexis, so maybe you can tell me more next time I visit."

Alexis nodded obediently. "I should go upstairs." She hesitated and for just a moment, appeared a little shy. "Will you come up and tuck me in, Kate?"

The child's uncertainty somehow made it easier to smile at the little girl. "Of course, Alexis. Isn't that what I'm here for?"

Alexis smiled and now looked more like the happy little girl Kate had come to expect. "Thanks, Kate. I just need a few minutes to change and then you can come up."

A few minutes later, Kate made her way upstairs, noting that there were three bedrooms upstairs. This place really was huge, especially by Manhattan standards. And yet, somehow, in spite of the size and obvious luxury of the place, it wasn't intimidating. Castle might be—well, obviously was—very rich to afford a place like this but for all that, the loft wasn't ostentatious. It felt comfortable, like a family home, not some show piece. And it spoke volumes for the kind of person Castle was.

Kate heroically resisted the temptation to peep into the different bedrooms—she had absolutely no business looking for Castle's bedroom, shouldn't even be thinking of the words bedroom and Castle in the same sentence—and instead waited outside the bedroom that was easily identifiable as Alexis's by the stuffed animals sitting on the bed. Alexis might have even more books in her room than Kate had had at her age.

A moment later, she heard a door open and Kate turned to see Alexis wearing _Star Wars_ pajamas. Definitely Castle's daughter.

"I'm ready for bed now, Kate."

"So I see. I like your pajamas, Alexis."

Alexis glanced down at herself. "Daddy picked them. He _loves_ Star Wars."

Yeah, that didn't surprise her at all. Kate hid a smile. "Don't you like the movies too?"

"I do but not as much as Daddy does," Alexis answered as she climbed into her bed.

Kate hesitated, hovering for a second—she had no idea what she was even doing, couldn't remember if she'd ever had to tuck a little kid into bed—but after a moment, she settled on the chair by the side of the bed. "I'm sorry your dad can't be here to tuck you in," she finally ventured, "but like he said, you can see him when you wake up tomorrow and then you can probably watch a recording of your dad on TV and that will be cool, won't it?"

It must be strange, actually, to watch your own father on TV but probably cool too.

Alexis wrinkled her nose, a shadow crossing her face.

She'd said something wrong again. She _knew_ she had no business being alone with a kid—what did she know about kids?—but what choice had she had?

"I never watch Daddy on TV," Alexis stated flatly.

"Oh." Did Castle not allow it or something?

"I don't like to." Alexis paused and then abruptly fixed her blue eyes on Kate. "I'll tell you why, Kate, but don't tell Daddy, okay? I don't want him to know because he fusses and I know he has to go on TV sometimes for his books."

"I won't tell," Kate promised, a little uneasily, but what could she say? And she couldn't really imagine it was anything terrible.

"I watched a couple times when Daddy was on TV before but I didn't like it so I stopped. He acts different on TV, like a different person. He's not my Daddy anymore and I don't like it. I don't understand why he can't always be my dad." Alexis finished quietly, her voice low.

Oh. Kate's heart clenched a little in sudden understanding. She had watched enough of Castle's past publicity appearances to know what Alexis meant. Castle was different in his public persona; she hadn't thought about it much since meeting him but it was true and obvious even to her. For his public appearances, Castle played his celebrity persona to the hilt, charming and dashing and confident, not to say cocky, and, yes, flirtatious. He acted like the playboy of his reputation.

But Castle—the Rick Castle Kate had seen with Alexis—was different. Oh, still charming and funny, that part was innate, but with Alexis, at home in his loft, he was… real. Sincere, down-to-earth, an openly adoring father.

Alexis was old enough to notice the difference but probably too young to fully understand the reasons. Or it wasn't that she was too young exactly, just that no child was ever really inclined to think of her parent's attractiveness to the opposite sex.

"Alexis, I think…" she paused, thinking, and then went on, a little uncertainly, "a lot of times, people act differently around different people and that's sort of what's going on here. It's not that your dad becomes a different person, he's still your dad, but well, when he's working, it's like he's acting," she explained. "Your Grams is an actress, right, so you understand, she pretends to be different people when she's on stage?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh. But Grams is pretending to be someone else; she wears costumes and wigs and stuff and that's her job."

"Right. And sort of like your Grams does, when your dad is on TV, he's pretending too."

"But why does he need to pretend? That's not his job; his job is writing."

"It is but sometimes it makes people want to buy more of his books if they think he's a certain kind of person so your dad is pretending to be that kind of person to make people want to buy his books." How had she gotten into this? She was beginning to understand the reason for the old lawyer's maxim of never to ask a question you didn't already know the answer to.

"But that's silly. It should only matter if people like his stories. Daddy's not the same as his books."

"It is silly but grown-ups can be silly a lot too," Kate answered honestly.

Alexis nodded. "I think I understand now but is it okay that I still don't like it when Daddy acts like that?"

Kate forced a smile. "Yes, it's okay. It's allowed for us not to always like what our parents do. We should just try to understand it even if we don't like it." She had tried to understand her dad trying to drown himself in alcohol even though she didn't like it. Not that what Castle was doing was at all the same thing.

"Thank you, Kate. That helps." Alexis lit up with the brightest smile she had shown tonight, one that was more like the bright and bubbly little girl Kate had come to know.

And Kate found herself returning the smile, the first completely unforced smile of the day. "I'm glad it helps, Alexis."

Alexis wiggled down into her bed until she was lying down, her head on her pillow, and Kate pulled up the comforter and tucked the girl in, vague long-ago memories of her mom doing the same thing to her young self returning to her mind.

"I'll be right downstairs if you need anything, okay, Alexis? Good night."

"Good night, Kate." The girl shut her eyes and Kate quietly backed out of the room, turning off the lights and noting that there were glow-in-the-dark stars scattered over the ceiling, before she closed the door behind her. She noticed a night light in the hallway and flicked it on before she returned downstairs.

She ventured into Castle's office to look over his collection of books—noting idly that the white board didn't appear to have changed at all in the last couple weeks since she'd been here—but then wandered out again. The thought of reading one of Castle's books while in his home seemed a little too weird and she couldn't think of anything else she wanted to read.

So in lieu of any better idea, she turned on the TV and started idly flipping through channels until she stopped. It was _Temptation Lane_ , an old episode, she could tell judging from the hair styles and the costumes of the main leads. Memories of watching the show with her mom flooded her mind and she settled in to watch. She remembered her mom laughing at the show and how weirdly engrossing it could be, saying it was so bad it was almost good. And if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the warm weight of her mom's arm around her shoulders as they curled up together on the couch to watch the show together, could almost hear the sound of her mom's laughter and her occasional comments.

And she remembered too the way her dad had usually rolled his eyes and muttered something about "that terrible show," before retreating into her parents' home office to try to get some work done or read a book. Remembered her dad pausing to drop a kiss on her mom's hair, murmuring, "I still love you in spite of your terrible taste in TV shows." Her pre-teen self had made a show of coughing and turning away but Kate remembered that moment now with sudden pain and compassion stirring in her heart. Oh, how much her dad had lost. She knew how devastated she had been—still was—at the loss of her mom, that gaping wound that would never heal. She hadn't, somehow, really stopped to think beyond a general knowledge of shared grief that her dad might have lost even more than she had. She had been too preoccupied, made selfish by her own aching grief. She'd blindly wanted her dad to make things better, to be there to comfort her. And then she'd been too disappointed in her dad and hurt and betrayed and worried when he hadn't, when he'd failed her—but now, watching this ridiculous show that was something only she and her mom had shared, she remembered some of the many private moments she'd witnessed between her parents and felt some of the anger and disappointment in her dad knotted inside her chest for the last years flake away.

So she watched the show, finding herself getting oddly sucked in, in spite of the melodrama, ridiculous storylines, and mediocre acting. She took advantage of the commercial breaks in between episodes to go upstairs and look in on Alexis. She wasn't keeping track of the time so she was a little startled when she heard the sound of a key in the lock and the door opened to reveal Castle.

He looked tired but he managed a smile for her as he entered. "Hi, Kate. How did everything go tonight?"

"Everything was fine. Alexis was as good as gold. I tucked her in and haven't heard a peep out of her since."

His smile brightened as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over the back of one of the armchairs. "Good. I'll just go up and check on her and be right back."

She belatedly scrambled to grab the remote and turn off the TV. And true to his words, he returned in the space of a minute or so. "Thanks again for watching her tonight, Kate."

"You're welcome." She paused, hesitated and then finally went on, "Say, Castle, I wanted to mention you should be careful about who you let watch Alexis when you have to go out. I mean, I might be a cop but I could also have a side gig selling meth to high school kids, for all you know." He raised his eyebrows at her and she felt herself flushing, stupidly. She did have a serious point, even if the example she'd given was somewhat farfetched. "I don't mean to sound patronizing," she hurriedly added, "but not all cops are trustworthy and, well, I've seen some of the terrible things that can happen when parents trust the wrong people to watch their kids and I'd hate for anything to happen to Alexis. Sorry," she added belatedly, realizing she had all but criticized his parenting. "I'm a cop so I can be a little paranoid."

He studied her for a moment and then he finally answered, "You don't have to apologize, Kate. You're looking out for my daughter and that's not something you need to apologize for. Anyway, you might be a cop but I'm a crime writer so I'm probably worse than you are when it comes to imagining conspiracies."

"I can imagine that," she said, a faintly dry edge in her voice.

He only smiled engagingly. "And as for trusting you, I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character and Alexis likes you and she has good instincts for people too but where Alexis is concerned, even I don't like to rely on instincts alone so I checked up on you."

She blinked. "You checked up on me? Checked up on me how?" What had he done? She tried to decide if she was mildly offended but that would be stupid because she had been surprised herself that he was willing to trust her with Alexis.

The man actually smirked. "Oh come on, Kate, you're a cop and I knew you worked in Homicide so it's not that hard to find you in the NYPD roster with that information."

Okay, he had a point there. It would be the bare skeleton of her professional career but it was publicly available.

"Of course, what's publicly available is limited but finding out more turned out to be even easier than I expected. I called up your Captain and asked about you."

Now she gaped at him and yeah, now she might not be okay with it. "You talked to Captain Montgomery? About me? How did you get a hold of him and what did you tell him?" She knew the Captain's number was unlisted, like most cops, and there was no way the officer on duty would have given out Montgomery's personal number.

He shrugged a little. "I've played poker with Montgomery a few times so I called him."

He played poker with her captain? Which meant now Montgomery knew that she was friends with Richard Castle too. Her personal life beginning to overlap with her professional one and she didn't like the thought of that. No, no, she liked keeping her private life (what little she had of one) private and well away from her work. Not that she thought Montgomery would blab about it but it was the principle of the thing. Bad enough that Montgomery knew about her dad's troubles.

"What did he say about me?"

"Don't sound so apprehensive, Kate. He didn't tell me anything in your confidential personnel file or anything. He just said that he would trust you with his own kids in a heartbeat and that was good enough for me."

"Oh." Montgomery had said that? It had nothing to do with her professional abilities and obviously, neither Montgomery nor anyone at One PP were going to decide whether she made detective at any time based on what kind of babysitter she was but the additional proof that her Captain thought well of her, trusted her, still meant something.

"Of course," Castle added, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, "since I caught you watching _Temptation Lane_ , I might have to revise my opinion of your judgment, at least when it comes to TV shows."

She choked on something that might have been a laugh if it had been allowed to grow up. A laugh. God, had she ever laughed or even come close to it on this day of all days? She couldn't remember but she didn't think so. She was always miserable on The Anniversary. And yet, somehow, he managed to make her want to laugh.

"I don't like it for its own sake. I like it because my mom liked it. We—we used to watch it together." And then stopped, surprised, again, at how she'd admitted that. She almost never talked about her mom, with anyone, but somehow, with Castle, it was… easier. And it occurred to her that it might be the first time she'd ever talked to anyone about her mom's _life_ , not just about her death. Her memories of her mom were too precious, too poignant, for her to share them easily and the one person with whom she might have talked about her mom—her dad—hadn't been someone she dared reminisce about her mom with.

His expression changed in the blink of an eye, softened with understanding. But he didn't say anything. And somehow his silence, combined with the kindness in his eyes, loosened her usually recalcitrant tongue. He knew about her dad and had been respectful and not pitying. And all she had seen of him showed that he was a nice man.

"My mom died today." She inwardly winced at how baldly that had come out.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flaring wide with shock.

"6 years ago today," she clarified and lowered her eyes as she tried to cling to her composure that was always fragile when it came to talking about her mom, especially today. "I was home from college for winter break. We were supposed to go to dinner together—my mom, my dad, and I—and she was supposed to meet us at the restaurant but she never showed. We thought she'd just been held up at work but when my dad and I got home, there was a detective waiting for us, Detective Raglan." She stopped, the memories flooding back. Her dad and her younger self returning home so blithely then the sight of Detective Raglan. She remembered everything, the way he'd looked, the clothes he was wearing. There had been a small grease stain on his shirt. The fingers on his left hand had been grimy, stained, and his shoes had been scuffed. She remembered the way he had said the trite words, _I'm very sorry for your loss_ , and thinking that he wasn't actually sorry at all.

"They'd—" her throat closed and she swallowed, god, this never got easier to say—"they'd found her body. She had been… stabbed." She kept her eyes open to try to hold back the prickling tears—she wasn't going to cry. She couldn't let herself cry in front of Castle or anyone else.

He made a small sound like an indrawn breath. "A robbery?" he asked very quietly, just louder than a breath, and she finally looked up at him, seeing the way he'd paled and seeing too the way he was restraining himself from asking more, perhaps from reaching out to her.

"No, she still had her money, purse and jewelry. And it wasn't a sexual assault either. The detectives wrote it off as gang violence, a random wayward event." She couldn't help the bitter edge in her tone.

"Her killer was never caught," he said very quietly, not quite a question, more a guess. "That's why you became a cop."

She couldn't quite speak through the tightness in her throat but she managed a brief nod to confirm the so-simple stark summary of the driving force of her life. It was another minute before she was able to speak. "Partly because I wanted to solve her case myself and partly because I wanted to help make sure that no one else had to go without answers the way my dad and I did."

He nodded. "I understand."

So many people had tried to give her well-meaning condolences by saying they understood and could imagine how she felt and Kate had always wanted to flare up in anger because how could they possibly, unless they had lost a parent to violence too and never gotten justice for the loss. But oddly, Castle's quiet sympathy didn't engender the same irritation. She felt as if he did understand. And maybe partly it was because of his books, the way he had of humanizing the victims, of never making light of a loss.

She swallowed and finished the story. "My dad took her death hard." A euphemism but then again, Castle already knew the truth about her dad. She wouldn't need to say it again; she hated mentioning her dad's troubles.

"But he's sober now," Castle said, his voice indescribably deep, gentle.

She looked up at him and to her horror and confusion, his words somehow were the last straw, made the tears well up in her eyes. Oh god why oh why was it that his saying her dad was sober now affected her so? It was true―her dad was sober, still, for now—and that was a good thing. It _was_. There was nothing to cry about in it. She blinked frantically and turned her face away, pretending a sudden absorption in staring at the bookshelves across the room as she willed the tears back. She wasn't—absolutely _wasn't_ —going to cry.

She was suddenly sure that a sympathetic word or worse, a sympathetic touch, would break her and she waited for the well-meaning gesture in something like dread but then she sensed or felt the shift of the couch as Castle stood up. "I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything, Kate?" Huh, what? It was so far removed from anything she'd imagined he would say that she was utterly confused. He barely paused for an answer, not that she felt able to speak, before he went on in a blandly casual tone that was so at odds with what they'd been talking about that Kate was almost dizzy with confusion. "And can I interest you in an advance author copy of my next book? I have a bunch of them and you're welcome to take one so you won't have to wait until next week to get a hold of it. I know how much I hate waiting for a new book by an author I like to come out."

Confusion and burgeoning irritation succeeded in drying out any threatening tears and she opened her eyes to snap at him, sharply disappointed to find out that he could be so callously self-centered as to be all but advertising his next book when she'd just told him about her dead mother. How she'd ever thought that she could talk to him was beyond her but now she knew better; no one wanted to hear about her sob story. She opened her mouth fully prepared to figuratively flay strips off him but then she actually saw him and the angry words died on her lips. At first she wasn't even sure why but then belatedly, her conscious brain caught up to her senses and she realized it was because of his expression. He looked… well, not at all casual or smug or anything similar to what his tone and his words had indicated. No, he still looked somber, his expression soft with compassion and concern.

Oh. Oh god. She suddenly understood exactly what he was doing. Remembered the way he'd stepped in to distract Alexis from her innocent question about her mom the last time she'd come over. He'd guessed or understood that she was holding on to her composure by a thread and changed the subject, distracted her. Given her what she needed to regain her composure.

How had he known? How did he do that? 99 people out of 100 would have said something to commiserate, one of those well-meaning platitudes, and she would have lost it and then hated herself for it. Castle hadn't. He'd somehow understood—and saved her, even from her own self.

A little tendril of warmth took root and blossomed in her chest. It was trust. And something like gratitude too.

She managed a wan smile and took refuge in mild teasing. "Well, I suppose, if you have a bunch of extra copies, I can take one. It'll save me from having to wait until the library gets it." Since she wasn't going to admit that she'd already pre-ordered a copy.

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," he responded dryly. "But I'll overlook it for now because you did me a favor tonight in looking after Alexis on such short notice."

She managed a faint but real smile, her spirits lifting a little at his humor. This sort of teasing banter she could do and oddly it made her feel calmer, more like her usual self. "Very magnanimous of you," she quipped.

"I know. I'm generous like that," he pretended to preen. "Just a second and I'll get you the book." He vanished into his office and she stood up to retrieve her coat from the front hall closet, shrugging into it.

He reappeared in a minute, book in hand. And she accepted it with what was probably the brightest smile she'd managed all day. "Thanks, Castle."

"No problem. When do you think you can come over for dinner? I'm a little busy this week with signings and publicity events though." He pulled a beleaguered face.

She quickly reviewed her shift schedule. "How about next Tuesday?"

"That sounds good to me. Next Tuesday it is and yes, I'll make more of my super-special tiramisu as a thank you," he affirmed.

"Good night, Castle."

"Have a good week at work, Beckett."

She stepped onto the elevator when the doors opened, the last image of his smile lingering in her mind, infusing a little warmth into her chest.

As the elevator doors slid closed again, she looked down at the book and then, on an impulse, opened it to look at the inside cover.

Oh. Oh, he had signed it. More than signed it.

 _Kate,_

 _The strongest steel must go through the hottest fire._

 _Rick Castle_

She bit her lip. He had already seen her when she was weak, knew how wounded she was—but he thought she was strong.

In her mind, she heard the well-remembered voice of her mom, _remember, Katie, life never delivers anything that we can't handle._

Her mom had believed that—but Kate wasn't sure she did, not anymore, not really. Because her mom had died and her dad had been a shell of himself in all the years since and Kate… well, she had not recovered either.

And Castle knew that but he still thought she was strong. She didn't know why it mattered so much but somehow, it did. Felt a little ember of warmth kindle in her chest at the thought, his words.

And it lingered, even as she made her way home and crawled into her solitary bed and she drifted to sleep with the words hanging in her mind.

 _The strongest steel..._

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: A chapter without Beckett, for which I hope you will forgive me considering what happens in it.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 12_

Tonight was going to be a good night.

Or at least, he was going to do his best to make it a good night, Castle told himself.

Everything was going well for him—well, if you didn't count the little issue of his writer's block but Castle refused to count that because it was a temporary issue—it _was_ , it had to be, he just needed some more time—so it was the perfect time to really make things right with Gina, fix the one part of his life that wasn't perfect.

Alexis had been invited to a sleepover at Paige's house and was so excited over it that she'd barely paused to look at him to say goodbye when he had dropped her off a little while ago. And seeing Alexis so happy always made his heart lift.

More pertinently (at least where Gina was concerned), his latest Derrick Storm book had been released to generally rave reviews (minus a couple lukewarm ones from curmudgeonly reviewers that his mother had gone to the trouble of digging up and sending him—and he didn't even want to think about how long it must have taken her to find the review of _Storm's Last Stand_ in the Texarkana Gazette, of all papers). The book had also been on the New York Times bestseller list every day since it had been released on Monday and sales so far showed no sign of slipping. And if the book stayed on the bestseller list for another week, one of the incentive clauses his lawyer had negotiated in the last contract would kick in so Black Pawn would need to pay him a generous bonus. Not that he needed the money but it could only help him when he was negotiating his next contract.

That success—and of course Alexis's being away for the night—had spurred him into inviting Gina out, partly as a thank you for her help in editing the book and making it better and partly to celebrate the book's success. And he also wanted to make things right between him and Gina again.

They had made up after their last argument a couple weeks ago and things were fine between them, to all outward appearances, but he was aware that it wasn't really true. Their relationship had not really returned to its former ease and warmth. He wasn't sure exactly why but it hadn't. They were both trying a little too hard, treading carefully around each other. He was making an effort to always be his suave and charming best and she was being unusually warm and affectionate. It was nice, pleasant, but he had enough sense to realize that it wasn't real or entirely natural and he knew it couldn't last.

And he wanted to make this relationship work. He did. He looked at Gina sitting across the table from him, dialing up the warmth in his eyes and his smile and was pleased at the way her own smile widened. See, everything was going to be fine. Gina was great. They worked together well, understood each other's lives, and honestly cared about each other too.

(He ignored the tiny voice in his mind pointing out that if things were so great, he shouldn't need to keep persuading—reminding himself of the fact.)

"Well, I'm glad Alexis is happy and doing so well," Gina smiled and took a sip of her wine.

"Yeah, she and Paige always seem to have a good time together. Alexis probably won't even want to come home tomorrow," he said lightly. He appreciated this about Gina too, the way she always remembered to ask about Alexis and appeared genuinely interested in Alexis's life.

"Mm, this risotto is absolutely delicious. How is your steak, Rick?"

"It's great."

"Good. This place is really living up to its billing as having amazing food, isn't it?"

"Yeah and the atmosphere is nice too. Not too loud. This was a good suggestion of yours," he agreed. Give credit where it was due, this restaurant was another one of Gina's choices, another of the newer places making a name for itself among the Manhattan elite. And he did like it. She wasn't wrong that the food was delicious and unlike a lot of the popular places, many of the tables, like this one, were set into little alcoves that allowed for some more privacy and quiet, made it less about seeing and being seen. Really, he had been ridiculous and unfair to quibble over restaurant choices with Gina. It wasn't a hardship to go to expensive restaurants.

She looked pleased. "Thanks. I'd heard so much about it so I figured it was time to check it out myself."

"Good thinking. I'll have to keep this place in mind to come back to in future."

She smiled at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks a little flushed with pleasure, and it occurred to him again that when Gina was happy, she really was a beautiful woman, one any man would be attracted to.

He felt a little knot of tension inside him dissolve. Things were going to be fine between them. Gina was straightforward and direct and never tried to jerk him around and while they had their differences, she was also relatively easy to please. They got along well.

"I read a manuscript from a would-be author the other day," Gina began after a moment.

He blinked. "You did? Why did they send it to you to read?" he asked. He knew that Black Pawn, like all publishing companies, received many unsolicited manuscripts from people who wanted to be writers. He had been one of them back in college but he knew now that most of those manuscripts were not read beyond a few chapters, just enough to get a sense of the plot and the writing style, before being rejected. The manuscripts varied widely in quality and most were, to be frank, very bad. Black Pawn had a separate division of people who received and reviewed the manuscripts and Gina was not one of them. So he couldn't imagine why Gina had bothered to read a new manuscript. She was assigned to a number of authors as their editor and they kept her busy.

"The manuscript division sent this one to me because they thought it showed a lot of promise and wanted to get my opinion since it's a mystery," Gina explained.

"And what did you think?"

"It needs a lot of work but it has potential. The plot needs some tightening up and the writing could be smoother but for a first-time author, it's not bad. He just needs a good editor."

"Well, if he needs a good editor, he couldn't do much better than you," he commented honestly. Gina was very good at her job.

She beamed at him. "Thanks, Rick. I've talked about it with the higher-ups and they agreed to make him an offer to publish the book and they've assigned him to me."

"If you think this guy can write then I'm sure you're right. What's the book about?"

She gave him a quick potted summary of the book and then added, "Would you be willing to read it over when it's ready to be published? An endorsement from you would help a lot."

"Sure, send it over and I'll take a look," he agreed readily. It might have been the biggest evidence that he'd arrived, as it were, become a big name that now, he was one of those people whose opinion was sought out for testimonials to splash onto book covers. It still seemed a little weird to him but he was willing enough to read the book. He read a lot of mysteries anyway for obvious reasons so it wouldn't exactly be a hardship.

"Great. Thanks, Rick."

"It's no problem. The book sounds interesting." He relaxed further. Their relationship was fine. Really, it was.

"It should be. We're thinking of going for a summer release." She paused and then added, just a little too carefully, "Maybe time it to be released just before the next Storm book so it can be part of the build-up to the next Storm."

He stiffened. There it was. He'd hoped, after they'd made it through so much of this dinner, without a mention of the next Storm book, that Gina had decided to avoid the subject in order to keep the peace after their fight. Obviously, that was too much to hope for.

"Rick, remember the outline for the next book is due on Friday."

"I know that," he answered shortly.

There was a brief pause in which he made a production of cutting his steak and carefully didn't look up at her. He felt her gaze but avoided meeting her eyes.

"Rick…"

Gina's voice was quiet. She was trying not to push, he knew her well enough to recognize the tone.

Castle took a bite of his steak and chewed with more vigor than was strictly necessary.

"Do you have any ideas for the next book? Why don't you tell me what you have and we can talk it out? Maybe I can help."

Her tone was cautious. She was trying to avoid another argument, he could hear it in her voice.

He sighed a little. "Must we? I was kind of hoping to avoid any mention of work during this dinner, keep this as a simple date and not a working dinner." Any distinction between the two did tend to blur when it came to him and Gina but he could try.

"I'm trying to help, Rick. You can't keep playing fast and loose with the deadlines."

"It's not like I do it on purpose. I just… haven't come up with a good idea for the next book yet. I've been a little blocked lately." He left unsaid that he was getting bored with Storm and seriously thinking about killing Storm off because he had no doubt such an admission would lead to a fight. Gina—and Black Pawn—were not going to be pleased at the idea of his giving up on writing Storm and killing Storm would go over even worse. Even if he chose not to write more Storm after this next book, they would much rather he simply retire Storm than make a permanent end.

"Well, tell me what you do have and let me help. Two heads are better than one, after all."

She was trying and she was smart and good at her job. He could at least try to meet her halfway. He didn't exactly have much in the way of plot ideas for the next book but he could improvise a little, right? "Okay, well, I have a couple ideas I've been batting around," he began slowly. He proceeded to give a brief summary of two different ideas, one revolving around a gun-running conspiracy for Storm to stop and the other, a high-profile assassination attempt. Neither idea had gone very far in his head so he freely embroidered as he went along, trying to add some flesh to the bare skeletons of ideas he'd come up with. He was aware that neither idea was really enough to write a whole book about but he was making things up as he went along.

Gina listened quietly—she could be a good listener, he had to admit—and didn't interrupt or comment until the little stream of invention ran dry and he stopped. "So, what do you think?"

There was a brief pause and then Gina sighed. "That's what you've come up with?"

"Yes." It wasn't great, he knew that, but it was all he had. Where had his inspiration gone? He felt a brief flicker of hope. He hadn't mentioned his writer's block to Gina before because he'd wanted to avoid her questioning him about it and because in some corner of his mind, he'd hoped that not mentioning it aloud would make it less real or at least, make it go away sooner or something. But now it occurred to him that he might have made a mistake in that. Maybe Gina could help. She was very good at her job and she knew mysteries, knew the entire Storm series almost as well as he did. Maybe that was what he needed, a little push and her cleverness could be the flint that struck the spark to his imagination.

"Rick, that's…"

She paused and he waited. What he really wanted was some encouragement, some support. He'd never had writer's block this severe and lasting this long. He was becoming more afraid by the day that he might have lost his inspiration, that he was going to be stumbling around and forcing himself to write books that went from mediocre to bad until he became one of those has-been writers, the ones who only lived off of past successes until their books were slowly shuffled off the bookstore shelves and into the bargain bin of secondhand bookstores. And yeah, he might not need the money—thankfully, the royalties from Derrick Storm could keep him and Alexis quite comfortably—but he didn't want to be a failed writer. Wouldn't know what to do with himself if he didn't have writing.

"That's… terrible," Gina finally finished.

He stiffened, feeling a flare of irritation and some defensiveness. He knew the ideas weren't good but would it kill her to be a little nicer about it? "I wouldn't say they're terrible," he shot back. "I know they're not perfect now but I'm still working on it. They can get better; they will get better. You know I can pull it off." He tried to sound confident. He still had it, the ability to write. He had to still have it. It wasn't just a switch or something. He simply needed to find inspiration again.

She sighed. "Rick, be honest. You know those ideas aren't going to cut it. You have less than a week before you need to get your next outline into me. What are you thinking?"

"Thanks for the encouragement," he retorted sarcastically. "It's not like I haven't been trying. You act like I'm doing this on purpose. I'm not, you know. I just haven't had inspiration lately."

"Inspiration!" Gina scoffed. "Rick, this is the real world and this is your job. You can't just sit around and wait for some metaphysical lightbulb to go off in your head. Put your brain to work and come up with a plot!"

"You know I can't really work like that! I don't write on a schedule. I write when I can but it's not just a switch I can turn on and off."

"And your procrastination has nothing to do with it," Gina shot back in irritation.

Okay, she had a point but still. "My procrastination aside, I just haven't been feeling it lately. The words haven't come. I've been trying!" He sat back, abruptly tired. Tired of this argument, tired of feeling lacking. "Can we not talk about this? I was just hoping for a pleasant dinner with my girlfriend."

"Don't be like that, Rick. I'm trying to help you and I do need that outline by Friday. Otherwise it'll throw your entire publishing schedule off and we've already started preparing for the publicity."

Castle shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know all that, Gina, and I will try to get you the outline. It's not like I don't want to come up with an idea for the next book. I do. It's just not happening. Now can we please just stop talking about this and enjoy the rest of our dinner in peace?"

"I'm just trying to do my job, Rick."

"Your job!" he flared with some exasperation. "Silly me but I thought I was having dinner with my girlfriend."

"You are but I'm your editor too and that means I have responsibilities. I can't just blow them off for you."

"I'm not asking you to and call me crazy but I was hoping that my _girlfriend_ could be a little more sympathetic to my writer's block."

"I'm trying to help you! What more do you want from me, Rick?"

He met her eyes, his anger abruptly dying to be replaced with something like sadness. "I want you to care more about _me_ than you do about my writing."

"It's the same thing!" she exclaimed in frustration.

He sighed. "No, Gina," he said quietly, "they're not." The truth of it was suddenly clear in his mind. He was a writer, yes, but it wasn't all he was. And Gina—she cared about him, wanted what was best for him, yes, but to her, he and his writing were synonymous. And she was a businesswoman to her toes, his editor first and his girlfriend second. "You're an excellent editor," he said after a moment but even he could hear the unspoken "but," that the sentence was leading to. She was an excellent editor—but those same qualities that made her so were also what meant she wasn't—could not be—what he wanted in a girlfriend. And ultimately, that was the problem.

This was why people shouldn't date people they worked with, he thought. Now he figured it out. He had thought it was a good thing that he and Gina worked so well together, a sign that they could be compatible in life too, but that was really only true when his work life, his writing, was going well. Now, when his writing was not going well, it was a problem, a conflict of interest.

An editor that cared too much about his feelings would be a bad editor but in a girlfriend…

Gina stared at him. "But that's not enough, is it?"

His lips twisted a little. "It's not what I want in a relationship."

"What are you saying, Rick?" She asked but he could see that she already knew. As he'd always known, she was clever.

"I'm saying…" He met her eyes, hoping against hope that somehow things would fix itself, that he would somehow, miraculously, think of a solution to fix this, but it didn't happen. "I'm saying that I don't think this is going to work," he finally said heavily. And the words fell into the silence with the heaviness of an acknowledged truth.

This wasn't going to work. He wanted it to work, partly because of Gina herself and partly because he was tired of being alone, wanted to be in a lasting relationship. He suddenly remembered what his mother had asked after the last fight he and Gina had had, whether it was a fight over something they could fix or not. Their last fight had, ostensibly, been over restaurant choices but he realized now that it really hadn't been. What had really bothered him about the way Gina had viewed their dates as potential publicity. Because it was one thing to care about his career but it was another thing entirely to care about his career _first_. Except it was her job to do so and in all honesty, he couldn't even really want her, as his editor, not to do so. Her passion, her dedication to her job, were part of what made her the best editor he'd ever had. Gina had been very good for his career and he was grateful to her for that—but that didn't mean she could be equally good for his personal life.

Gina's lips thinned in an expression of displeasure but not anger. She reached across the table and grasped his hand in an unusual public gesture of affection. "I do care about you, Rick."

"I know you do but you're my editor first and it wouldn't be fair of me to want you to change." It would also, ultimately, not be in his best interest, professionally speaking, and he couldn't quite separate the personal from the professional to that extent.

She squeezed his hand once and then released it, her lips curving into a wan facsimile of a smile.

"It's been good though."

He relaxed and oddly, felt a surge of liking for her. Not for Gina to enact some melodramatic scene in public; Gina wasn't Meredith—or even like many of the other women he had met, who seemed constantly willing to take offense and either storm off in a huff or dissolve into tears, usually in an attempt to get their way. No, Gina was sensible, practical. He gave her an honest smile. "Yeah, it has been."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, of course, friends," he agreed easily. Ironic, really, that right after breaking up with her, he was reminded why he and Gina had become friends in the first place, why he'd liked her so much. Because she was straightforward and didn't try to jerk him around and honestly, being with her had been, well, easy in many ways.

And he didn't acknowledge or think about the stupid—and utterly wrong—way that he found himself occasionally searching her eyes for glints of green in the brown. Or that he'd more than once had the strange, unjustifiable thought that brown eyes were somehow plain, weren't what he wanted to see. That had nothing to do with anything; it wasn't why he had broken up with her.

As if to highlight the truth of the fact that he and Gina were still friends, the rest of dinner passed fairly easily in light conversation about some mutual friends and about new trends in the publishing industry. It was only made somewhat awkward because they both carefully avoided any reference to their just-ended relationship or to his next book. It was really rather sad—and probably said more about their relationship—that it could end so peaceably and so relatively painlessly. He and Gina liked each other, cared about each other, but they had not been in love with each other.

Dinner over, he accompanied Gina to her place in the town car he'd reserved for the night and then saw her inside with a light kiss on the cheek. "Rick, don't forget—" she stopped and gave him a rueful little smile. "You know what, never mind. You already know."

"Yeah, I do. I'll do what I can. Have a good night," he said easily. Huh, that might be a first, her deliberately pulling back on provoking him. Maybe their argument had affected her more than she'd let on or she honestly didn't want to end the evening on an acrimonious note.

"Bye, Rick."

He watched her disappear into her building before telling the driver to leave for the loft. Amicable break-up or not, it was still a let-down. Another swing and a miss for Rick Castle in the search for a lasting love.

And of course, as he was reminded the moment he walked into the loft, he was alone tonight too, thanks to Alexis being away for her sleepover. He grimaced, pushing away the spurt of melancholy. Alexis was going to be back tomorrow morning and anyway, he refused to be so pathetic that he couldn't handle a single night alone.

Besides, as Gina had reminded him, he really did need to get a handle on what his next book was going to be about.

Another few minutes staring at his uncooperative white board resulted in him sighing and dropping down into his office chair and pulling his laptop towards him for the other project he had sort of started.

It wasn't Derrick Storm but it was a mystery. Kate's mystery. Or to be more accurate, her mother's mystery, her mother's murder.

The idea had been lurking in his mind the last few days since Kate had told him about what had happened to her mom and then the other day, when he'd been bored, he'd found himself starting an idle and then not-so-idle search.

Armed with the date of Kate's mom's death—January 9, 1999—it hadn't taken long to find Johanna Beckett's obituary. Johanna Beckett, lawyer, survived by her husband and her daughter. Survived by—the words had suddenly struck Castle as being wrong because the young, hopeful girl that Kate must have been then was gone, had not really survived at all. No, that young girl, little more than a child if she'd been in college at the time, would have died along with her mother on that day. It was an older, more serious Kate that lived on, scarred by her grief. He knew it, had glimpsed it on the night they'd first met and then seen it again the other night when she'd told him about her mother's murder. Her words had been sparse but her pain had been in her voice, in her eyes, and his writer's imagination had been able to picture it all, the entire scene. The young Kate—he knew her well enough to predict that she would have done well in school, no doubt gone to a good college—oh yes, he could picture it, a younger Kate, bright and beautiful and happy, who had the world at her feet, unscarred by tragedy. And then the day that had changed everything.

He had known from the first day he'd met Kate that young as she was, she'd experienced tragedy. He had seen it in the tears glistening in her eyes—those changeable green-gold eyes of hers—heard it in her voice as she'd so briefly summarized why she was alone on her birthday. Her mother dead, her father an alcoholic.

But it occurred to him now, knowing the truth of her past better, that he'd really had no idea, not about her past or about the depths of her strength.

He had written mysteries but he'd never really stopped to think what it must be like for the people who never got the answers they sought. The real life cost to unsolved mysteries. He remembered what she'd said about why she'd become a cop: _I wanted to help make sure that no one else had to go without answers the way my dad and I did._

It didn't happen often but he'd felt… shamed, somehow, at how blithely he had written about solving mysteries. Of course, in his books, the mysteries were always solved, some after years, but he'd never thought about the human cost of the wait. Felt a little shamed, too, at how blithely he had tried to plan the perfect murder that would never be solved without considering the pain that every unsolved murder represented.

He tried to make his books accurate portrayals of human nature but it had been starkly brought home to him that when he wrote about life and death, it was all fictional. Fake. No more real than one of the Road Runner cartoons where the coyote was squashed flat by a boulder only to pop right back to life and resume the chase again.

Kate had lived through a murder and she still dealt with the reality of it every day, fought to give justice to victims.

Kate wanted answers; she deserved answers. She'd said she wanted to try to solve her mother's case herself.

And he wanted to help.

Not only because he was curious, although he was, but because Kate deserved better. Kate's _mother_ deserved better. Not only because of her daughter but because even the brief obituary had been clear about the sort of lawyer Johanna Beckett had been. Castle was smart enough, man of the world enough, to read between the lines of the obituary to get a relatively clear picture of Johanna Beckett the lawyer just from the brief mentions of the pro bono criminal defense work Johanna Beckett had engaged in.

Criminal defense work—a murdered attorney. His mystery writer's brain had leaped to possible conspiracy theories just from that.

He found a few news articles about Johanna Beckett's death but the bare facts—stabbed in an alley—were not that helpful. They ended with the inconclusive and bland statement, "police continue to search for suspects."

The articles obviously didn't go into any more detail. Stabbed where, stabbed how, stabbed with what?

He wanted more information. He could help, he was sure of that. He could call up Dr. Clark Murrary, the best pathologist in the city. If there was anything more to be learned from the body, Dr. Murray would find it. And Castle had other contacts too.

But before he could even try to use them, he needed more information but that was where he ran into trouble. Because he didn't have access to the police file. He would have asked Roy Montgomery but he couldn't do that now, not knowing that Montgomery was Kate's Captain. He didn't know Roy that well but he guessed that Roy would certainly feel more loyalty to one of his own officers than he would an occasional poker buddy. Which was as it should be.

No, the only option was to ask Kate herself and he rather shied away from the thought of doing that. The pain in her face had been too deep, muted and hidden by Kate's deep reservoir of self control, but still there and he didn't want to bring it up again, didn't want to hurt her like that. Also, a tiny corner of his mind reminded him that he wasn't entirely sure she would agree. Kate was independent and after all, what right did he have to be prying into something so personal?

He made a small face. No, he'd better wait before asking Kate about her mom's case. Wait for her to trust him more.

* * *

He retrieved Alexis late the next morning and listened to her excited recount of everything they had done on their "awesome sleepover that was so, so much fun," and felt a little more joy seep into him, courtesy of his daughter.

The rest of the day passed quickly and while he knew he should talk to Alexis about Gina, he put it off until she went to bed. It wasn't that urgent and anyway, during the day, he and Alexis were busy having fun. They played a rousing game of laser tag that Alexis won, to his voluble and exaggerated pouting displeasure, making Alexis cackle with glee in a way that was unlike his usually gracious-in-victory daughter (and thereby achieving what he intended) and then Alexis, being the wonderful daughter that she was, magnanimously agreed to let him pick the movie they would watch and even refrained from teasing him when he again picked _Star Wars: A New Hope_.

But eventually, after Alexis was in bed and he'd finished reading to her for the night, he lingered. "So, baby bird, I have some news. Gina and I had a talk yesterday and we decided that she's just going to be my editor from now on, not my girlfriend anymore," he explained carefully. Alexis never met or even heard of most of the women he'd ever met for obvious reasons but she did know Gina. Had met Gina first as his editor and then more recently, after he and Gina had started dating, Gina had spent some time with him and Alexis together. Meeting Alexis was an important test for any woman he dated and he usually didn't allow it until after he had a sense that the relationship was actually going somewhere. Gina had been somewhat different from the outset because she'd already met Alexis. Alexis had accepted Gina's presence as his girlfriend and not just his editor with her usual sweetness but he wasn't sure how she would respond to this shift in relationships of Gina as only his editor again. It occurred to him not for the first time to worry how his own relationships—or lack thereof—were affecting his daughter.

"You and Gina broke up?" Alexis questioned, a serious expression on her little face.

"Yeah, we did." He watched Alexis carefully but she only appeared thoughtful, not upset in any way.

"Okay," Alexis nodded and he could practically see the gears in her mind turning as she processed this. "So Gina's not your girlfriend anymore."

It wasn't a question but he affirmed it again anyway. "That's right. She'll only be my editor now."

Alexis thought about this some more—his serious little girl, always cogitating—before she went on, off-hand, "I'll tell Mommy Gina's not your girlfriend anymore."

He blinked and gaped at her. She would what? "What?" he blurted out, surprise making his voice sharper than he meant it. "Why would you do that?"

Alexis almost flinched, turning suddenly wide, dismayed eyes up to him. "Because Mommy will ask me. She always asks me about you so I tell her. Should I not tell Mommy things?"

Damn it, Meredith. He sighed, tugging Alexis closer to him. "Mommy asks you about me, pumpkin?" he asked, deliberately gentling his voice. He usually left Alexis alone when she spoke on the phone with Meredith but he was beginning to think that was a mistake. He hadn't wanted Alexis to think he was intruding or that he didn't trust her or that she couldn't trust her own mom—but as seemed to happen every time he trusted Meredith even an inch where Alexis was concerned, Meredith went ahead and proved that he couldn't. Damn it, he really couldn't trust Meredith when it came to Alexis at all, could he? Not even for the usually twice-a-month phone conversations he tried to insist Meredith had with Alexis. (It was the very least Meredith could do since she only seemed to see Alexis once or twice a year.)

Alexis nodded against his shoulder. "Uh huh," she confirmed, her voice rather small. "She's always asking what you're doing and if you have a girlfriend so I tell her. I'm sorry, Daddy. Is that wrong?"

He felt tension spike through him but tamped it down. What the hell was Meredith doing, using their daughter to keep tabs on his life? He was going to need to have another talk—not to say, fight—with Meredith but that would be later. Right now, he had to focus on his daughter. "No, pumpkin, you haven't done anything wrong. Of course if your mom asks you questions, you would answer it but next time Mommy asks you what I'm doing, you should tell her she can ask me herself. You haven't done anything wrong," he repeated, "but it's not good to talk about other people without them knowing about it."

Alexis didn't look all that reassured, which was confirmed as what she said next was, "I'm sorry, Daddy."

He could really learn to hate Meredith one day, he thought tiredly. Making messes that he had to clean up, he could forgive, but hurting Alexis was another thing entirely. He pressed his lips to Alexis's hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. I promise you, I'm not mad at you about this and you haven't done anything wrong. I just want you to remember for the future because you're getting so big and mature."

That compliment got her face to brighten up a little. "I'll remember, Daddy."

"That's my good girl."

Alexis's expression sobered again. "Are you sad that Gina's not your girlfriend anymore?"

"No, I'm not sad," he answered honestly. He was disappointed but it was more in the general sense of still being alone than any specific regret over Gina. "Gina and I both decided it would be better to just work together."

Alexis nodded. "Okay, Daddy. If you're not sad about it, then I'm not sad about it."

Oh, his little girl. He gave Alexis a squeeze. "It's just you and me, pumpkin, and that's good enough for me."

Thankfully happier now, Alexis dimpled up at him as she hugged him back. "Because we're a team," she agreed.

"The best team," he smiled, tugging lightly on a lock of her hair. Thank goodness for a happy child.

"Even when I beat you at laser tag," she added impishly.

He laughed. "Yeah, even then, pumpkin." He ruffled her hair. "Come on now, lie down to go to sleep."

"Yes, Daddy, I know." Alexis wriggled obediently down into her bed and then tilted her head a little as she looked up at him. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Alexis?"

"I know Gina's still your editor and she helps you with your books but I don't really like the way Gina orders you around sometimes. I think I like Kate better than Gina. Kate doesn't order you around."

Oh. Well, that was unexpected. Not the sentiment, per se, but the reason. And he was a little surprised that Alexis was actually expressing a negative opinion about anyone. She usually didn't. For a while, he had labored under the delusion that Alexis was an angel who liked everyone in the world. But he did want Alexis to be fair to Gina, if only because Gina was still going to be around and would still interact with Alexis occasionally. "Alexis, Gina bosses me around sometimes because that's her job. If I were in your class, I'd be one of those boys who sits in the back and always fools around and never pays attention to the teacher." He pulled a silly face for her benefit and Alexis let a smile escape her. "So Gina sort of has to act like the teacher and get me in trouble when I do that but it's not because she's mean." His issues with Gina aside, she did mean well and he had to acknowledge that there was justice in a lot of her complaints. "Kate doesn't order me around because Kate's only my friend. She doesn't need to make sure I behave." Although it occurred to him that he had no doubt that Kate would be no slouch in the giving orders department. She had enough confidence in her air and manner that he had no doubt she could pull off authority very well, especially when aided by her badge. "But it's not fair to not like Gina for doing her job, okay, pumpkin?"

"Okay. But Daddy, I still think I like Kate better than Gina. She's more fun."

"It's not a competition, Alexis." There were times—like now—when being a parent turned him into a spoilsport but he didn't want Alexis to get into the habit of making comparisons to judge people. "You can like them both for different reasons. I like Gina because she's Gina and I like Kate because she's Kate."

Alexis grinned up at him. "And I like you because you're Daddy!"

He gave in and laughed. Okay, so it was possible Alexis hadn't really understood the point he was trying to make but it would do for now. "And I like you because you're my baby bird," he responded, deliberately blowing a raspberry on her cheek making her squeal with laughter before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"Daddy?"

"What is it, pumpkin?"

"When is Kate coming back for dinner?"

"She's coming over for dinner on Tuesday, assuming her work allows. Now, I think it's sleepy time for baby birds."

Alexis wrinkled her nose at him in a way that had her looking abruptly older. "I'm not a baby anymore."

He suppressed a sigh at that. "I know you're not but it's still bedtime for you."

"Yes, Daddy, I know. Good night, Daddy."

"Good night, Alexis."

Alexis snuggled down into her bed and closed her eyes while he quietly backed out of her room.

He had to admit that he hadn't exactly needed Alexis's mention of Kate to bring her to his mind. Because, yeah, he might like Kate better than Gina too. Which didn't say much for him since Gina had still been his girlfriend up until last night.

He grimaced. He'd always sworn that he would never be the kind of man who cheated—and of course, he hadn't cheated on Gina but, well, he couldn't say that his thoughts or his emotions Kate-ward had been all that pure either. There was a reason he had found himself avoiding any mention of Kate when he was with Gina and really, that sort of instinctive dishonesty should have triggered a warning that he'd heeded. But he hadn't because, well, he'd told himself nothing was going to happen and he would never cheat and Kate knew he had a girlfriend and had never flirted with him anyway. Which was all still true.

But for all that, he couldn't deny that he felt… freer now in thinking about Kate than he had before—and felt rather guilty over it too. Gina deserved better than a boyfriend who spent not a little time thinking about another woman—even if Gina hadn't known because _he_ knew. Knew perfectly well that he had thought about Kate more often and with more emotion than any man who was in a relationship with another woman had a right to do.

He grimaced. He didn't want to think of himself as being that kind of man but he couldn't deny that he didn't exactly like his own behavior lately, not where Gina was concerned.

At least, his relationship with Gina was over, the potential for infidelity of any kind was over.

Not that it was going to change things, certainly not immediately. He'd learned his lesson about getting involved with someone on the rebound after Meredith and besides, Kate was different, more… complicated than most women he'd ever known. She was wounded, vulnerable, and he already valued her friendship and her friendship with Alexis too much to risk it on something that might just be the attraction of the forbidden and of a sexy young woman.

And maybe that was the problem, the difference, too. He never let most women meet Alexis. But Kate was not—had never been—one of those women to him, mostly because of how they'd met and his relationship status at the time. So now Alexis already knew Kate and liked her, a lot. He couldn't—wouldn't—risk his daughter's fragile heart on something he wasn't more certain of. (But even as he thought it, a tiny voice in his mind spoke up that he was already certain of Kate.)

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I have to admit writing Gina was really hard but at least, she is now out of the picture. Happy now? ;-)


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being somewhat different than I thought but I think it works. At least I hope it does.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 13_

Sunday saw Kate getting pulled into a case that seemed to be destined to go unsolved, something she hated because of the echoes to her mom's case. She threw herself into the case, thankful, not for the first time, that Detectives Hassan and Scanlon were such good detectives. They, unlike some detectives, never tried to hold her back and they didn't take shortcuts for cases, didn't shortchange the victims and their families in their hunt for answers. And Montgomery allowed it, even encouraged it. Unlike some captains, he never prioritized case closure stats over getting the right answer.

The case stalled through Monday and Kate's fingers hovered over her phone at several points during the day as she debated calling Castle to say she couldn't go over for dinner on Tuesday since she was in the middle of the case but every time, she put it off. She didn't know for certain what might happen over the course of Tuesday or if they would reach a point where there was simply nothing more to be done, every thread of evidence coming to a dead end. And for once, she was surprisingly resistant to the idea of having to rearrange anything in her personal life because of work, resistant to the idea of missing out on dinner with the Castles. (And it occurred to her to wonder when was the last time she'd had anything in her personal life that she looked forward to. Aside from the last dinner with the Castles, she couldn't really think of a thing—and how pathetic was that?)

But then on Tuesday, they managed to solve the case and Kate was actually the one who figured out that the person's alibi was a lie, starting the dominoes rolling so the case was solved by the end of the day. But of course, being the one who cracked the alibi meant she was also the one who needed to take care of the paperwork about it, summarizing her process, which meant she needed to stay a little later. She would be late for dinner but she would make it, remembering to send Castle a quick text to that effect.

It was nearing 7:30 by the time she found herself in the hall outside of Castle's front door, a little startled at the way she felt a knot of tension unwinding inside her accompanied by a renegade spurt of anticipation. It felt… odd and different to be feeling such anticipation unfurling inside her. When was the last time she'd had anything in her personal life—or in general, really—that she looked forward to? Aside from the last dinner with the Castles, she couldn't really remember it. Apparently, she'd needed friends—friends who were not part of her work, friends who were cheerful—more than she'd realized. And yes, she was really looking forward to having more of Castle's super-special tiramisu.

She knocked and after a moment, the door was opened by Castle. "Beckett, hi, you made it!"

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry to be late but there was paperwork to finish up."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, don't worry about it. We're just glad you could join us." He turned his head. "Alexis, Kate's here."

Alexis was curled up on the couch reading a book but she looked up and flashed Kate a quick, if somewhat distracted, smile. "Hi, Kate."

"Hi, Alexis. What are you reading?"

Alexis turned the book cover-up towards Kate to allow her to read it but also answered, " _Indian in the Cupboard_."

"Oh, I liked that book," Kate offered. "Are you enjoying it?"

Alexis nodded vigorously. "Uh huh. It's really neat." She gave Kate another smile but then returned her attention to her book, which Kate entirely understood.

She turned back to Castle, who raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. "Pit stop in my office?" Huh? His glance toward her waist told her what he meant and she flushed, biting her lip. Of course, her gun. And again, she'd entirely forgotten about it. Some sense of gun safety, in a household with a child and she forgot all about her loaded gun.

She accompanied Castle into his office, noting absently that his white board was again, still, largely unchanged. There were a few sheets of paper taped up on it and a few more words ( _Clara Strike. Coup. Bomb._ ) scrawled on it but otherwise, it was the same. It occurred to her to wonder if it was some sort of mock-up or dummy board to serve as a distraction to any nosy guests who might otherwise try to find out spoilers for the real plot of Castle's next book—but then again, she didn't know if Castle would have any such nosy guests. Aside from her, she supposed.

But that did remind her. She handed her gun over to Castle and commented with deliberate blandness, "I finished reading _Storm's Last Stand_." She did not mention that not only had she finished it, she was halfway through rereading it.

"And what did you think?"

Kate met his eyes, seeing the humor dancing in the bright blue, the faint smirk playing around his lips, and as if in answer, felt something like mischief, an instinct to tease, spark inside her. She didn't really do this much, tease and laugh, wasn't light-hearted anymore, if she had ever really been light-hearted. Much of her humor, any tendency to pranks or joking, had been buried under the rubble of her destroyed world after her mom's death. She didn't usually join in to the occasional rounds of jokes and teasing that went on in the precinct because she was focused on her work and wanted to be taken seriously by her colleagues. But somehow, with Castle, amusement and laughter came easier, as if reflecting his own good humor. Something about the force of his presence, his personality—maybe it was an unrealized aspect of his charm or charisma or something—but whatever it was, she succumbed to the impulse to tease him.

She tilted her head to one side in a pose of exaggerated thoughtfulness. "I thought your use of dramatic imagery in the climactic scenes was not very effective and your diction in describing the villain was hyperbolic," she intoned with mock solemnity.

For a split second, he gaped at her and she felt a little flutter of nerves. Had she gone too far? She knew her humor tended to sarcasm and who knew how personally a writer would take criticism of their writing?

But then she relaxed as he gave a crack of laughter. "Nice, thanks for that."

She gave in to her grin. "It was a good read, Castle. I mean, it's not as good as Michael Connelly's latest," she added teasingly, "but it was decent."

He pretended to bridle in indignation. "I'll have you know, Officer, that Michael Connelly's last book peaked at #8 on the New York Times bestseller list and _Storm's Last Stand_ is currently at #6."

"Popularity with the masses is not an arbiter of quality," she returned.

"Hey, I resent that. Although I'll forgive you just this once for using the word 'arbiter' so casually."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're too kind," she drawled.

He pasted on a theatrical pout. "Alexis, Kate's being mean to me," he said in a whine that could have come from any petulant child.

Alexis barely glanced at him. "I'm trying to read, Daddy. Don't distract me."

Kate sputtered with laughter at Castle's expression as he huffed, throwing up his hands in histrionic displeasure. "You mock me and my own daughter ignores me," he pretended to lament. "See if I feed you any dinner now." He stalked back towards the kitchen in a show of offense.

"Sorry, Castle," she grinned, not able to actually sound repentant at all. "I'll stop teasing if you feed me." She followed him into the kitchen. "Is there anything I can help with?" she asked more seriously.

He flapped a hand at her. "No, everything's all set. You can go sit down. Are you okay with just water to drink?"

"Water's fine, Castle," she assured as she dutifully sat down.

"Alexis, sweetie, dinner's ready. Come sit down," Castle called as he carried two glasses of water to the table that already boasted place settings, a large salad bowl, and a small basket full of bread rolls.

"Can I bring my book, Daddy?"

"Now, Alexis, you know the rule and Kate's here tonight too," Castle answered.

In a minute, Alexis appeared at the table, sliding into the seat opposite Kate and shooting Kate a smile as if to indicate that she didn't consider Kate to be a poor second to the company of her book after all. "Did you catch a killer today, Kate? Daddy said you had a busy day at work and that's why you had to come a little late."

Only Richard Castle's daughter would sound so excited at the idea, Kate reflected. "I did help the detectives catch a killer, actually."

"That is so cool, Kate!" Alexis enthused, a sentiment that was echoed by Castle as he brought over two bowls full of chili, placing them in front of Kate and Alexis.

"It wasn't that exciting," Kate demurred. "This smells great, Castle, thanks."

"You're welcome," he answered, looking pleased as he returned to the table with his own bowl of chili. "Now, dig in and of course, help yourself to salad and bread."

Kate turned back to Alexis. "So, Alexis, are you having a good week at school?"

Alexis smiled and nodded but didn't answer since she was chewing.

Castle took advantage of the pause to interject. "Alexis got a 100% on her last math test," he announced with enough pride ringing in his voice it would have done justice to an announcement about winning a Nobel Prize and had Kate imagining she could almost hear the trumpet fanfare that should by rights have accompanied the pride in his tone. It was really kind of adorable. She hadn't thought that being a 'proud Dad' would be so adorable but it really was. (Of course, a voice added, Captain Montgomery and Detective Scanlon and a few other detectives were also proud dads and she had never in her wildest dreams imagined using the word, adorable, in connection with any of them so maybe it wasn't so much the 'proud Dad' thing that was adorable but was just Castle himself that was adorable. A little. Maybe.)

"Good for you, Alexis," Kate praised.

"Daddy, stop it!" Alexis's protest overlapped with Kate's words and she turned to Kate to explain, "Daddy's been telling _everybody_ about my test score and it's so _embarrassing_ ," Alexis drew out the word as only a child could.

"He has, huh? Who is everybody?" Kate asked, sternly biting back the urge to laugh.

"We went to get a celebratory ice cream yesterday and he told the person scooping the ice cream and the cashier when we paid and then we went out to dinner and he told the waitress and then when we got home, he called Grams and told her and later when he was talking to Paula, he mentioned it to Paula too."

"Paula's my agent," Castle added as an aside before turning to Alexis. "Really, Alexis, you're my favorite daughter so of course I want to brag about you."

"Daddy," Alexis huffed. "I'm your _only_ daughter."

Castle pasted on a look of wide-eyed innocence. "All the more reason for you to be my favorite."

A knot of emotion got caught in Kate's throat and she choked a little and hastily turned it into a series of coughs, drawing the concerned gazes of both Castle and Alexis. She waved a hand. "I'm fine," she managed to croak, "just something went down the wrong pipe," she lied as she took a drink of water and tried to calm the sudden spasm of longing in her chest.

Oh. Oh god, she missed her dad, not the quieter, more subdued dad she met up with for stilted, awkward meals on the weekends, but the dad of her childhood, the dad she'd adored so whole-heartedly, the dad she'd lost just as surely as she'd lost her mom six years ago. Castle and Alexis's silly exchange about his favorite daughter had made her mind flash back to times when she and her dad had had almost the exact same exchange, more than once while she'd been growing up. Her dad making half-joking and somehow wholly-sincere references to her being his favorite daughter and her youthful self often rolling her eyes and huffing at her dad's lame humor-and her mom's soft laugh in accompaniment. Stupid tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she kept her eyes focused on her bowl of chili as she fought the tidal wave of emotion. These sudden reminders of her parents happened every so often but they were always more painful in January, so close to the actual Anniversary.

She became belatedly aware that Alexis was talking, her voice quiet with sympathy. "Oh, I hate when that happens, Kate. Do you want Daddy to hit your back? Or Daddy knows how to do the Heimick," she pronounced carefully.

"Heimlich," Castle corrected mildly.

Kate managed a smile for Alexis. "I'm fine, Alexis," she managed, her voice almost normal. "Thanks. We can keep on eating and I want to hear more about what you're learning in school."

Alexis brightened and as Kate had expected—and hoped—accepted the change of topic cheerfully, recounting what she and her classmates had learned in school and the games she and her friends had played at recess and the fact that her class was going to get a class pet, a turtle who rejoiced in the name of Bartholomew ("but we're going to call him Barty," Alexis explained solemnly).

Kate was able to smile and laugh and thought, not for the first time, that Alexis really was like a beacon of light.

Her gaze got tangled with Castle's (also not for the first time), a glimmer of understanding passing between them as they both suppressed the urge to laugh at another of Alexis's precocious statements. Yeah, okay, so Alexis's dad wasn't exactly a slouch in bringing light either.

(But he had a girlfriend. And she wasn't looking for a relationship so it didn't matter.)

Dinner passed easily and quickly—and Kate suppressed a pang at the thought that dinner with the Castles was so much easier and more fun than dinner with her own dad. (She did love her dad. She did.)

Afterwards, Castle started clearing the table with Alexis's ready assistance and they both, again, insisted she shouldn't help. She would have disobeyed but felt oddly reluctant to disobey the 9-year-old girl, who was trying so hard to play hostess.

"And now for dessert," Castle declared dramatically, "you have your choice between ice cream, cookies, or chocolate pudding."

But… he'd promised tiramisu.

He could have run out of time or just forgotten, she reminded herself. And grown women and police officers did not pout. Kate turned towards the kitchen, intending to say ice cream was fine, when she saw Castle's expression.

He was joking. Possibly getting back at her in a mild way for the way she'd teased him about his book earlier. She was sure of it. Well, she was almost sure of it. His expression was bland but she swore there was the faintest smirk threatening to break free, a corner of his mouth twitching. "Castle," she began, a faint hint of warning in her tone—very faint, just in case she was wrong about his joking. She didn't know him so well as to be absolutely certain.

"What's your choice, Officer?" he met her eyes, his expression not faltering.

Kate felt a twinge of doubt, hesitated. If he was joking, he had a formidable poker face.

But before she could decide or say anything else, Alexis spoke up. "But Daddy, you told me you promised to make tiramisu for Kate and you always say that people should keep their promises."

Castle gave in and threw Kate a smirk and a quick wink before turning to Alexis, rearranging his features into appropriate solemnity. "You're right, pumpkin, as usual. I was just joking. I did promise and I made the tiramisu for Kate this morning because people should always try their best to keep their promises."

"Mommy doesn't," Alexis said matter-of-factly.

Kate stiffened and glanced at Castle to see the almost imperceptible wince that flitted across his face, the sudden tension in the set of his shoulders. "You know, I need to use the restroom so I'll be right back," she blurted out, her voice sounding too loud to her own ears but she assumed—hoped—that was just a product of her own self-consciousness. She turned and fled—there was no other word for it—to the restroom.

"Alexis, sweetie," she heard Castle begin, his tone ineffably gentle but also faintly threaded with tension that spoke of controlled agitation—and then Kate heard no more as she gained the haven of the restroom and barricaded herself inside it.

She proceeded to wash her hands with the thoroughness of a surgeon prepping for surgery and then after drying her hands, lingered in the restroom with high-minded fortitude for an additional few minutes, allowing Castle and Alexis some privacy. Even as Alexis's matter-of-fact statement that her mom didn't keep her promises echoed in Kate's mind, making her heart clench inside her for the little girl. And again, she reminded herself that there were other ways to lose a mother, other hurts.

Was it wrong to hate a woman she'd never met and whom she knew almost nothing about? Possibly. She'd really only heard Castle's and Alexis's side and she of all people knew that there were always two sides to every story. Except she knew that the woman hurt her little daughter's feelings and a daughter as smart and sweet as Alexis at that. Was there any possible story that would justify that? No. Kate decided she was fine with disliking Alexis's mom, sight unseen.

Finally, Kate ventured out of the restroom, a little slowly, to see that Alexis was once more seated at the dining table, a bowl of ice cream in front of her.

Castle looked over at her and managed a smile. "Kate, come and have your tiramisu. I think it came out just perfectly this time, if I do say so myself." He pretended to preen but Kate could see that it was forced, his smile not as bright.

But he was making an effort for Alexis's sake and she couldn't fault him for that.

"I've been looking forward to this all day," she admitted as she resumed her seat. "So if you'd forgotten to make it, I might have had to hurt you."

Castle shrugged. "Eh, your gun's locked up in my safe so I wouldn't have worried."

"I'm a cop, Castle," she retorted immediately, "I know at least 30 different ways to cause grave bodily harm even when I'm unarmed." And mmm, all joking aside, the first bite of tiramisu convinced her all over again that she really might have wanted to hurt him if he hadn't kept his promise.

Something she decided she didn't want to recognize flashed through his eyes before he pretended to cower, leaning over towards Alexis to say in a loud whisper, "Kate's scaring me."

Alexis gave a little giggle, nearly restored to her usual cheerful self. "Don't worry, Daddy, I'll protect you."

"My hero," Castle said with exaggerated gratitude.

Kate laughed and exchanged grins with Alexis, glad to see the brightness in the little girl's eyes. "Your dad's being silly again."

Alexis heaved a put-upon sigh—yeah, definitely her father's daughter (and her grandmother's granddaughter.) Clearly, melodrama ran in the family. "He does that a lot."

"I don't think I like the way you two gang up on me," Castle grumbled.

"Girls should stick together," Alexis informed him brightly.

"Yes, we should," Kate concurred, sharing a smile and a high-five with the little girl.

They finished their desserts in short order as Castle clearly made an effort to keep Alexis laughing with his antics, deliberately getting some of the cream from the tiramisu on his nose and making funny faces for her benefit as he wiped it off.

Once they finished dessert, Alexis slid out of her seat and carried her empty ice cream bowl over to the kitchen and then turned to her dad. "Daddy, is it okay if I go upstairs to finish my book before bed?"

"Of course, pumpkin," Castle agreed. "I'll be up to tuck you in when it's time for bed."

"Thank you, Daddy." Alexis turned her smile on Kate. "I'm glad you could come over for dinner, Kate. You don't mind that I want to finish my book, right?"

"Of course I don't mind, Alexis. I know how hard it is to tear yourself away from an interesting book. Have a good night, Alexis."

"I will. Will you have dinner with us again, Kate?"

Oh lord, how was she getting so drawn into this family so quickly and so easily? And yet she couldn't bring herself to regret it at all because she liked Castle and Alexis and it was fun and so pleasant to have a little glimpse of brightness in her life. "Sure, I'd like that. But actually, why don't we go out next time and I can get dinner for us? I feel bad to be constantly making your dad cook."

"You don't have to do that, Kate," Castle interjected. "I enjoy cooking."

"Still. I'd like to. We could go back to Remy's," she suggested. (And how had it happened that she was actually volunteering to buy dinner for a multi-millionaire? She suppressed a hysterical urge to laugh at the craziness of it.)

"You don't have to, Kate. Really, I'd be cooking for Alexis and myself anyway so it's not like having you over has been an inconvenience of any kind."

"That's not the point. I want to return the favor and anyway, you liked Remy's," she persisted.

He made a small face at her. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

"Nope. You might as well give in now."

"Well, if you insist. I can never say no to a good burger," he agreed.

"Oh goody! We'll see you again soon then, Kate!" Alexis beamed. "Good night, Kate."

"I hope you enjoy your book," Kate responded.

"I will. Bye." Alexis waved a hand and then scampered up the stairs, her book clutched in her hands.

Kate turned back to Castle to see that he had started to clean up after dinner with a little too much force in his movements as he scrubbed a pot and faint lines of tension around his set lips.

"Is Alexis okay?" she asked but realized that what she really wanted to ask was if _he_ was okay but something in his shuttered expression told her that he wouldn't appreciate the question.

His expression eased, lightened up just a little as he glanced up at her. "I think she'll be fine." He paused, returning to scrub the pot but after a moment, he stopped, bracing his hands on the edge of the sink and letting his head fall.

Kate could only watch but didn't break the silence, unsure if he wanted to talk. And after all, this was all very personal, a family matter, having to do with his daughter and his ex-wife. It had somehow, foolishly, not occurred to her that Richard Castle, rich, famous, charming, and sought-after—and who had a girlfriend—could be lonely but seeing him now, she thought, he was. And after all, maybe it was easier to recognize it because of her own familiarity with the condition.

"I try never to lie to Alexis," he finally mumbled, his voice quiet enough that she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or just himself. "But then she talks about her mom and I have to lie."

He had to lie, Kate thought, because the alternative was hurting Alexis and criticizing her own mom. Because there was simply no way to tell a child that yes, her mom didn't care enough to keep the promises she made.

What could she say to that? It was an almost excruciatingly personal admission and she didn't know how to do this, not really. Providing comfort and understanding to victims of a homicide, she could do—it was her job and she'd lived it too. But she knew next to nothing about kids, next to nothing about parenting—and what she did know came from what she'd seen on the job so it involved dysfunctional family relationships. And her own relationship with her dad could not be termed healthy since they could not seem to have a real conversation anymore.

Except… Castle had listened to her talk about her parents, had helped her.

She didn't know what to say but she thought about Alexis, the little girl she'd come to know. "Alexis is a great kid. She's a happy kid," she added because that was true. Whatever hurt Alexis might have suffered because of her mom, Alexis was still a happy, cheerful kid. And that was due to Castle. She had thought it the first time they had met and everything she'd seen of him since had confirmed it: Rick Castle was a very good dad.

It worked. He lifted his head to look at her, his expression softening into a faint smile. "Thank you, Kate."

She returned his smile, aware of her stupid heart fluttering inside her, the heat creeping into her cheeks. And even more stupidly, now that she was not so distracted in wondering what to say to him, she found she was incredibly aware of the muscles of his arms as he braced them on the sink. He had rolled up his sleeves to do the dishes and his stance only emphasized the muscles of his forearms and although she couldn't see it due to his shirt, she could imagine that his upper arms looked just as strong. She swallowed and jerked her eyes away. He had very nice arms.

He also had a girlfriend, she reminded herself, to say nothing of more money than she would ever make in a lifetime.

And this stupid physical attraction aside, she didn't want him to be interested in her anyway. She didn't do relationships and with her baggage, her damaged, fearful heart, she had no business getting involved with anyone. No business dragging anyone into her life that revolved around death and darkness.

He cleared his throat a little and resumed washing the dishes. "So Beckett, you said you finished up a case today? You were finishing up paperwork. How much paperwork do you have to do at the end of a case anyway? And what was the case about?"

Huh, what? She swiveled her head back to look at him to catch the tail end of his smoothing his expression out into something approaching his usual ease. Moment over then. It occurred to her that Castle wasn't that willing to talk about himself, or at least not his vulnerabilities. Which, as a private person herself, she understood. And maybe that was why he appeared to understand her own boundaries.

And of course, she already knew that he was honestly interested in her work. The only real surprise was that he hadn't peppered her with more questions about her job earlier.

Kate allowed herself a proud smile, feeling the same jolt of satisfaction that she'd known earlier that day. And it occurred to her that she wanted to talk about the case because it had been an interesting one. Wanted to talk about it to Castle, more specifically, because he was the one friend she had, with the exception of Lanie, who was interested in her work. "We did close a case today and I was the one who really cracked it open." She wasn't given to boasting but she knew she had, and not just by doing the grunt work of finding evidence to back up the detectives' theorizing but by using her own brains. She had even gotten a "good job, Beckett" from Detective Scanlon before she'd left, high praise from the usually laconic detective.

"You did?" He sounded even more excited than she felt. "I knew you must be great at your job. What did you do and how did you figure it out?"

"I figured out that one of the witnesses was lying about his alibi and that started the dominoes falling because innocent people don't tend to lie about alibis," she explained.

"How did you know he was lying?" Castle asked eagerly.

She felt her heart rate stutter a little, not because of his appearance but because he looked—oh lord—so… fascinated. Fascinated by her—and there was something incredible about that, about having someone—a man—seem to find her so interesting. She didn't understand it but she couldn't deny that a part of her liked it. Her vanity more like, a tiny voice in her mind scoffed.

Kate slid onto one of the bar stools on the other side of the island, settling in to face him. "I didn't know it but the alibi he gave us was rock solid and I don't tend to trust rock solid alibis because realistically, most alibis are soft and I'm a cop, I'm professionally suspicious," she quipped. "It's an occupational hazard."

He gave a rather absent laugh and she glanced at him but he said, "Go on. Tell me the rest," so he was clearly still interested and there was a spark in his eyes she couldn't remember seeing before.

"So I decided to look into it, also because we were sort of treading water in trying to find a motive to kill the victim so there wasn't much else to do. I did some asking around and found out the witness was lying and then of course that meant the detectives had me digging into the witness's life further to try to find out why he'd lied and when we did, we found that our witness didn't seem to have existed before five years ago."

"Let me guess, he was living under a stolen identity," Castle interjected as he dried his hands, apparently deciding to leave the pot to soak for a while.

"Got it in one," Kate affirmed. "It turned out he'd been part of a gang that pulled off a string of armed robberies back in Cleveland, Ohio, years ago and then he'd left, tried to get a new start here, but then one of his old gang buddies came out to New York on a vacation, of all things, and the killer saw him and was convinced he was there to rat him out and killed him for it but it turns out from all we found out that the victim most likely hadn't even noticed the killer so he was really killed for nothing."

"No honor among thieves, I guess," Castle murmured and shook his head. "But still, you'd think he would wait to be sure first but I suppose that's expecting too much rational thinking."

Rational thinking, huh? Oh, he had walked into this one, a flicker of mischief sparking, and Alexis was safely out of earshot too. "Mm, and stealing a police horse while naked is a prime example of rational thinking," she interjected, deliberately deadpan. She had finally looked up Castle's police record, not expecting anything beyond a drunk and disorderly charge, only to have to smother her snickers as she saw his rap sheet. And known she would definitely need to tease him about it.

He choked and spluttered, turning to stare at her. "Wha-at! How did you—there's no public record of that!" Was he—oh, he _was_ —blushing, a dull tinge of red appearing in his cheeks and on his ears. Richard Castle could blush, who knew? And damn it, if that wasn't adorable too. She was not—absolutely not—even thinking of the mental picture of him naked. Absolutely not.

"Maybe not but I'm a cop, remember?"

"You looked up my official police file?" He looked torn between amusement and something like defensiveness.

"You checked up on me too and turnabout is fair play."

Amusement won out and he laughed. "Touché, Officer Beckett. I still don't think it's fair though since I didn't find out anything confidential about you."

She shrugged a little. "There's nothing that interesting to find out about me."

He slanted a look at her. "Somehow I doubt that."

Stupidly, she felt heat prickle in her cheeks, something about the look in his eyes or the intonation in his voice. She battled it back and quickly countered with a smirk, "Well, I've certainly never stolen a police horse."

He covered his face with his hands in mock mortification but one laughing blue eye was peeking out from between his fingers, betraying him. "I don't suppose saying that I was young and stupid will save me?" he ventured, the words slightly muffled by his hands.

"Sure, that's what they all say," she drawled.

He dropped his hands and made a comical face at her. "Well, if you're only going to make fun of me, I think that's my cue to leave and check on Alexis."

It was just going on 9 o'clock, Alexis's bedtime, Kate noted. It had slipped her mind but obviously Castle was well-trained. "Tell Alexis I said sleep well."

He threw her a smile for that. "I will. I'll be back in a few minutes. Make yourself at home."

Thus adjured, Kate's eyes wandered to the bookshelves separating the living room area from the rest of the first floor and after a while, she slid off the stool to browse the bookshelves again. She'd always thought her parents had had a lot of books but Castle's collection left her parents' one in the dust. And of course, he had a lot more mysteries. Did he have every mystery published in the last few years? It at least looked possible, along with an extensive collection of older mysteries, naturally, including what appeared to be every single Agatha Christie book and he even had the handful of other novels she'd published under the name of Mary Westmacott.

Kate moved on down the shelf and finally settled on the row of Liam Chesley's books, pulling out one of the older ones and settling on the couch to idly skim through it.

It was a few minutes before Castle reappeared and she looked up to see the faint smile on his lips and guessed that Alexis must be entirely herself again.

"Did Alexis finish her book?"

"Yeah, she did. And now she's impatient to start the sequel but I convinced her it could wait until tomorrow," he answered, flinging himself onto the couch, his eyes going to the book in her hands. "Oh nice choice, that's one of the better ones involving Trevor Valentin," he commented, naming the main character in the series.

"Yes, I think so," she agreed. "It's not my favorite of the series by any means but it's a good one."

"Yeah, Trevor Valentin is a good character but do you ever feel like he's just too good at what he does?"

She blinked and frowned a little. "Too good? I'm not sure what you mean by that."

He sat forward, sobering, his entire demeanor changing. She felt an odd little answering zing travel up her spine, making her straighten. Oh, now she'd done it, getting into a discussion about literature and a mystery series with a best-selling author. But she couldn't regret it either. He was different now, more intense, more focused, none of the child-like glee visible. "He's too perfect is what I mean. It's not just about always knowing that he's going to solve the case; of course he is, that's the whole point of a mystery, but I think he gets predictable because nothing is ever too much for him and whatever he faces, he can win. He never doubts himself. Doesn't that get boring after a while?"

Looking at him, she had the sudden sense that he wasn't really talking about Trevor Valentin anymore. His interest wasn't academic but personal. He couldn't—was he thinking about Derrick Storm? Did he think Derrick Storm was like that, boring? Surely not. He couldn't. She pushed the thought out of her mind. Just because she was a cop didn't mean she needed to start imagining hidden depths to every statement. And anyway, he was Richard Castle, who'd written a bestseller when he was still in college and basically never written an unpopular book since. And Derrick Storm was a great character, had been called America's answer to James Bond in no less a publication than the New York Times Review of Books. Storm was amazing. As the old line went, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. (She might have had a small—tiny really, infinitesimal—crush on Derrick Storm herself. In the past. Obviously.) So no, there was no way. Castle clearly took mysteries seriously but that was only because he was a mystery writer himself.

"He is very clever but I still think there's a value to that and I haven't found that it gets boring at all. People like to read about characters who are smarter and better than they are; it's inspiring and provides motivation to read about characters who are the sort of people most of us want to be in our lives but aren't. It gives us something to work towards. And that matters. Heroes show us what we aspire to be and that has value. It's important." She certainly found it to be so.

He was staring at her, an oddly arrested expression on his face. "You really think so?" he asked slowly.

She felt herself flushing a little. She'd been a little too forceful. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't think so," she countered. "I think that's why people read mysteries because we want to believe in a world where the good are rewarded and the wicked are punished, because we want to find out the answers. Fiction can teach us what the world should be, to show us what we should try to become."

"And a lot of people seek out excitement too," he interjected.

"Well, yes, excitement helps too."

He gave her a faint smile. "You really like mysteries, don't you? Even though you're a cop and you work on real-life mysteries every day."

She shrugged a little. "Yeah, I do like the genre," she answered blandly. It was true. Mysteries in general she liked, appreciating how difficult it was to write a good one and also enjoying the intellectual challenge of it, of trying to figure out the mystery before the protagonist did. Castle's books provided all that too and more—but she wasn't about to admit that, wasn't sure she could.

"You don't think that mysteries become too formulaic after a while?"

"Some writers do but for the most part, no, the formula varies widely enough that it stays interesting provided the writer is a good one and can write characters that come to life. You might know in general terms what you're going to get when you pick up a James Patterson book but that doesn't make his books boring and there's something to be said for consistent quality."

"An Alex Cross fan, huh?" A faintly teasing smile curved his lips but for all that, she had the distinct impression that he was thinking about the other things she'd said. He looked thoughtful and for almost the first time since they'd met, she could recognize the brain behind the books she loved.

"Aren't you?" she shot back.

"Fair point. But don't ever tell Patterson because he'll never let me live it down."

"Oh damn," she pretended to lament. "I was planning on calling him up right now. Wait, you actually know James Patterson?"

He affected a pout. "You needn't sound so excited over that. I'm a bestselling author too, you know."

She bit back a smile and waved a deliberately dismissive hand. "Whatever. James Patterson is the real deal! I've been reading his books for _years_ ," she played up the fangirl in her in a way she never would have when it came to Castle's own books.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Now you're just being mean."

She smirked. Teasing him was fun. "I'm a cop, Castle, and cops don't flatter people."

"Just for that, you can be the one to buy dinner next time."

She scoffed. "Not much punishment since I already offered. That's the best you can do?"

"I'm being nice since you've been so good with Alexis. And that reminds me, when do you think you can have dinner with us again?"

She thought about it, running her shift schedule through her mind, and they settled on the following Thursday. She was really doing this, agreeing to yet another dinner with Castle and his daughter. It was a little frightening just how easy it was to be friends with Castle, to get along with Alexis. She didn't do this sort of thing, spend time with little kids or even laugh and joke and have dinners that felt so… homey, for lack of a better word—and yet, here she was. Being friends with Castle and friends with Alexis too—she liked it. It was nice and easy and fun and for the first time in years, might be the one aspect of her life that she didn't want to change. She was fine just as things were and that was a nice feeling, odd but nice. She really had missed having friends in her life that weren't part of work. She'd lost contact with her high school friends and her college friends—well, her mom's death had killed any social life she had. And now with work, she had to focus on getting ahead, on being taken seriously, on proving herself, on making detective. But with Castle and Alexis, she could have some fun, be a brighter, more cheerful version of herself—and they really seemed to like her. Somehow, this friendship with Castle and Alexis seemed to work and it couldn't count as using them for the brightness and laughter they brought into her life if they liked spending time with her too, right? So after all, she could do this, have this sort of friendship, and things would be fine.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Liam Chesley and his Trevor Valentin are inventions of mine; obviously Michael Connelly and James Patterson are not. Thanks, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: In which we see a little more of Lanie.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 14_

He could have kissed her.

He hadn't, of course. Or well, not of course; he hoped it wasn't 'of course' because he definitely wanted to kiss her but that would be later, he hoped, and he was babbling to himself so he should shut up.

But he could have kissed her. Not because he wanted to—okay, not _only_ because he wanted to (of course he wanted to; he was pretty sure a man would have to be dead to not want to kiss Kate Beckett) but because she'd given him the inspiration he'd been looking for and hadn't found.

He had it now, the plot for the next Derrick Storm, but more importantly than that, he felt the old excitement again, the urge to write, that twitch in his fingers that came from the flood of words in his brain. He hadn't felt so… eager to write in a long time. But now, it was back. The words were back—the fire was back.

And it was because of her. Because of her intensity and her passion and, yes, her words.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, maybe it was just part of the constant workings of his mind, but in one of those moments of alchemy, her words had been the spark to the tinder and he'd suddenly found a plot falling into place.

Professionally suspicious. And then the quip that it was an occupational hazard.

And somehow that had started it. Because cops weren't the only people who were professionally suspicious; spies also were. Spies like Storm. And somehow things had fallen into place and he'd had it, the germ of an idea that he could really run with. He'd been toying with an assassination attempt but now he knew that wasn't what the story would be about. It was going to be a successful assassination, one that everyone else believed was a natural death due to something (he made a mental note to call Dr. Clark Murray to find some kind of nearly-undetectable poison to stop the heart and make death seem natural) but not Storm. Storm would be convinced that it was murder—professionally suspicious. He would be suspicious and he wouldn't let it rest because the victim's death would be too convenient for certain people—perhaps the militant branch of a hostile foreign power—who'd been jockeying for influence with a more peaceable group led by the victim but then with the victim out of the way, the path would be clear for the militant group. And Derrick Storm would be the one to see it, to suspect foul play.

And Storm would act accordingly. It would provide another source of conflict because it would set Storm against the CIA and the other foreign policy establishment—possibly even pit Storm against Clara Strike at first—and then things would go from there with Storm going rogue because he needed to and having to work not just against the actual conspirators but against his own well-meaning but unconvinced bosses, at least until the end.

Oh yes, he had it. More importantly, he had the beginning which was always the hardest part. He had the emotional core of the story. Because the story would start with a funeral, a grieving adult child of the victim. Perhaps an estranged son who would not now have the chance to make peace with his father? He would have to work that out, Castle made another note in his story outline.

Castle found himself smiling at his laptop screen as his fingers danced over the keyboard. Smiling! God, he couldn't remember when he'd last felt this sort of excitement over writing but it had been years. He might not have been blocked before but a lot of the excitement had been lost for a while now. Writing had become more of a chore just as Storm had begun to be more of a struggle to write about.

But now, he thought about what Kate had said, albeit ostensibly about Trevor Valentin and not Derrick Storm, but the message held. He'd been getting fed up with Storm, with fighting the character and with feeling bored of it, feeling like he was getting stuck in a rut and writing the same thing over again. But somehow, listening to Kate, he'd felt that feeling fade, the knowledge sinking into him: Kate liked Storm as a character. He knew it. Oh, Kate hadn't said it in so many words but he knew she was a fan. She'd read _Hell Hath No Fury_ and even he didn't think that book was worth reading. Kate liked Storm—and ridiculously, he'd abruptly found himself deciding that even if this next one ended up being the last Derrick Storm book, he wouldn't kill Storm off.

He did still think this would be his last Storm. In spite of everything, he was ready to move on from Storm, move on from the character and his world. Thrillers were all well and good but he thought it might be time to move back to the bread and butter of mysteries, what he'd cut his teeth on, as it were, the traditional murder mystery. More than that, he thought he wanted to try his hand at a police procedural.

He would write one last Storm to fulfill the contract and then he would move on. To another character, one with more depth. The vague outline of one was already coming into focus—a cop driven by the murder of a loved one. Someone who had been wounded but who had survived, who let their loss fuel their determination to get justice for others. Someone… like Kate. Oh yes, he wanted to write a character like that.

But first, he needed to write one last Storm. Surprisingly, he found he didn't mind the idea. Kate liked Storm as a character and he could do that—give Storm a send-off worthy of him, for his fans.

It should have been ridiculous—what author really decided to write another book simply because one fan liked the character?—and yet, somehow, it wasn't. In listening to Kate, he felt as if he'd found again what had once appealed to him about Storm, remembered why he'd created Storm in the first place.

And more importantly, he thought about the intensity in her voice, the suppressed emotion. How much she'd obviously cared about these books, these characters. And in her passion, he'd rediscovered his own. He thought about what she'd said, about people wanting to believe in a world where the good are rewarded and the wicked are punished—and he'd remembered, too, that it hadn't happened for her. That her mother's killer had never been caught and she'd become a cop to try to give other people the closure, the justice, that she had never gotten.

Maybe he couldn't give Kate justice for her mother—although he still wanted to try. But he could at least give her a glimpse into a world where there was justice.

It wasn't anything much, not compared to what she did every day. But it was what he could do. He could write justice for her. And Kate herself had admitted that it was important, that it—god, was it possible?—inspired her? He could hardly imagine that. He wasn't exactly Shakespeare. He wasn't even Ian Fleming or Agatha Christie or any of the other authors who had inspired him.

But somehow, in her voice, in her expression, he'd recognized her emotion, that somehow mysteries resonated with her, meant something to her.

And now he had a purpose—write a world in which people got justice.

And that was exactly what he would do.

He looked over his outline. He'd sat down at his desk the moment Kate had left and now, just over three hours later, he had the outline. It wasn't done yet; there were notes here and there he'd left to himself where he needed to flesh things out. But the essence of the story was there.

And he still had three more days until the outline was due.

He opened a new document that he saved for now as the new Storm book. A title would come later but even though this was decidedly backward and not something he had ever done before, he obeyed the impulse. And typed across the center of the document what he already knew this book would be, however else it might change. _For Kate._

The bare outline of the story had been inspired by her but it was more than that. She'd given him the soul of the story, what he would be writing for.

Funny the way life worked. Just a handful of days ago, he and Gina had broken up over this very lack of an outline but if he'd waited on that—or if he'd somehow managed to have this conversation about mysteries with Kate earlier—well, no, that wouldn't really have worked either because it had at least partly been the case Kate had solved today that had inspired him, what she'd said about being professionally suspicious.

And it wasn't the lack of an outline that had really broken him and Gina up. It had been the fact that Gina was his editor first, girlfriend second, and he didn't want that. He wanted someone who cared about _him_ , not about his writing or his money or his fame or anything else.

He wanted… Kate.

His fingers froze on the keyboard at the thought, the way it settled into his mind with all the weight of truth. Oh god, he did want Kate, wanted to be with her. Not because she'd inspired his writing but simply because of _her_. Because she was amazing and he wanted to know more about her, wanted to see that smile that lit up her expression and her eyes, wanted to make her laugh. And he wanted to eradicate that odd note he sometimes caught in her laughter of something like surprise, as if she was _surprised_ to be laughing. It was so… utterly wrong that someone like Kate, who spent her entire life trying to give justice to others, whose smile could illuminate a room, could be so wounded. She was fascinating in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever encountered before, so strong and yet so vulnerable, so driven and intense and yet so compassionate. She dealt with criminals every day but she could still smile and laugh with his daughter.

Oh, he had it bad, was falling fast and hard. _Careful, Rick._

He might be falling for her—but he didn't know what she wanted. Kate was young, smart, gorgeous—she could be with any man she wanted. And unlike just about every woman he'd met recently, he sensed, knew, that she wasn't interested in his money or his fame or his connections. For the first time in a long while, it occurred to him that he didn't know if a woman—if Kate—would be interested in him.

They were friends, though. Real friends and that too was something different for him these days. A friend who didn't want anything from him. A friend who insisted on paying for their next dinner—and that was new too. No one offered to pay for anything when he was around anymore. And while he couldn't say he was thrilled at the idea of Kate paying for dinner since he knew she had to work so much harder than he did to make money, he couldn't deny that it was oddly refreshing just to have her offer. Kate was different; being friends with Kate was different. And he liked it, liked her. Liked talking to her and teasing her and being teased by her. (So few people really teased him anymore.) He could simply stay friends with her; he wanted to stay friends with her. And at least for now—but just for now—that would be enough.

* * *

Kate wasn't about to admit it but she might—just might—have been moping. A little. Maybe.

In anyone else, she might have said they were pouting but she was a grown-up and a cop and she didn't pout so she certainly wasn't pouting. She simply wasn't in a good mood. Yeah, she'd just leave it at that. She wasn't in a good mood. But really, since she was working on a fresh homicide, what person would be in a good mood? Murder didn't tend to be a happy-making subject. So that was all.

That settled to her own satisfaction, she stalked into the morgue, giving Lanie a perfunctory greeting before clipping out, "Detective Hassan sent me to find out if you've managed to confirm COD and narrow down the time of death window."

"Actual COD is confirmed as asphyxiation but the original cause of it isn't clear. As for time of death, give it another half hour or so and I should be able to get it down to a 2-hour window."

"Well, hurry it up because we need a narrower time of death window."

"I can't control how long the lab tests take," Lanie retorted. "You know that."

"I wasn't blaming you. I was just saying we need it because the preliminary 6-hour window is so broad it's basically useless."

Lanie fixed Kate with a look. "Okay, what's up with you that's got your panties in a twist?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Kate deflected automatically.

"Oh no, girlfriend, this is me, remember? You don't snap at me like that so that one isn't going to fly. What is it?"

From past experience, Kate knew Lanie wasn't the sort to give up but she tried again anyway. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Lanie flatly contradicted. "Okay, it couldn't be anything work-related because I haven't heard even a wisp of rumor about you lately."

Kate narrowed her eyes at Lanie. "You know I hate the precinct rumor mill."

"Hate it all you like, it isn't going anywhere. You're surrounded by nosy cops who gossip worse than teenage girls. So it's not work. What else is there—" she broke off, her expression and her tone altering, softening. "How's your dad? He's not sick or anything, is he?"

Kate inwardly winced. They both knew that Lanie was really asking if her dad was drinking again. Perpetuating the polite fiction of alcoholism that it was just like any other sickness, a passing thing like the common cold—and 'sick' was the euphemism for 'drunk.' "My dad's fine," she answered quickly, slightly too forcefully. "He's not sick at all." By which she meant that he was sober. Which he was. Still, for now.

He was still sober. Even now, after he'd been out of rehab for more than a month. He'd officially passed the (first) 30 days. She didn't really count the two months he had spent in rehab because that was different, a controlled environment, not entirely on him. But now, her dad had been sober more than 30 days, had gotten past The Anniversary.

She met with her dad once a week every weekend and called him at least once during the week. She had tentatively stopped expecting her dad to call her because he was drinking or worse to get a call from another precinct that they'd picked up her dad drunk. But her mom's birthday was coming up in just weeks and that was another painful day. So she was still only taking it one day at a time when it came to her dad.

Lanie's expression eased a little. "Okay, so it's not your dad. Then what else can it be, since you don't have a personal life worth speaking of, unless there's something you haven't been telling me?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you should try being a detective?" Kate grumbled.

"I'll stick with dead bodies, thanks," Lanie retorted. "Now, stop evading. What's eating you?"

"Nothing," Kate reiterated. "I'm fine. I'm focused on getting the time of death window for the victim and then solving this case and that's all."

"Uh huh, pull the other one," Lanie retorted skeptically. "Katherine Beckett, did you have a date tonight that you had to cancel because this case came up and that's why you're pissy right now? Because I did hear a little bird tell me that you've been smiling more and I also heard that just after the call came in about this case, you snuck off to make a phone call and returned with a face like a wet week."

Kate let out an annoyed huff. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised by now at the efficiency of the precinct's gossip mill or the fishbowl nature of the bullpen but she really hated it. The CIA had nothing on Lanie when it came to informants. "It was not a date," she gritted out.

Only to realize her mistake as Lanie let out a crow of triumph. "But you did have plans that you needed to cancel. So tell me, who was this not-a-date with?"

"My plans were with a friend. Her name is Alexis," Kate answered with carefully limited honesty.

Lanie drooped almost comically at the revelation that her dinner plans had been with a girl. But then—damn it—Lanie straightened up, a knowing look entering her face. Damn it, did Lanie have to be so smart? (Kate ignored the fact that if Lanie hadn't been so smart, they probably would never have become friends since Kate wasn't known for suffering fools gladly.) She had really been hoping that Lanie would have forgotten Alexis's name since Kate hadn't mentioned either Castle or Alexis to Lanie for more than a month, since Lanie had met Castle. "This friend of yours wouldn't happen to be Alexis Castle, would she?" Lanie asked with overblown casualness.

Kate gave in to the inevitable. "Yes, as a matter of fact, she is. Alexis and I have become friends and Alexis wanted to have dinner with me again and I didn't want to disappoint a 9-year-old girl."

"Of course you didn't," Lanie agreed innocently only to go on in a voice that dripped sarcasm, "And how terrible for you, that you have to endure dinner with a handsome, charming man because you don't want to disappoint his daughter."

"Lanie, it's not like that! It's not! Yes, I've had dinner with Castle and Alexis a couple times but we're just friends. They're… fun."

"Fun," Lanie repeated. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Kate Beckett?"

"Lanie!" She wasn't that bad, was she?

"Do you know when the last time was that I heard you describing anything as being fun?"

Kate made a small face. "How am I supposed to remember something like that?"

"Well, I do. You said you went to watch a movie that was fun. More than three months ago."

Oh. Really? Ugh, that was pathetic. "Don't be like that, Lanie. You know I don't have a lot of spare time with work and everything."

"I know but stop using work as an excuse. I don't exactly work regular hours either and I still manage to have a life."

"You like going out more than I do," Kate pointed out. "You know what I'm like. I get so wrapped up in work and all I want to do when I'm done is go home where it's quiet." Quiet and organized and restful, no messes, no other people to worry about or deal with.

"Quiet can also be boring."

"Quiet is peaceful," Kate countered. "And anyway, I've gotten better. I've had dinner with Castle and Alexis a few times."

"A few times, huh? I thought you said you were probably only going to see them once."

She had rather expected that but she hadn't really known either Castle or Alexis then, hadn't known how, well, _nice_ they were, how open and welcoming they were. "I thought it was going to be only once but then Alexis asked me to have dinner with them again and…" Kate shrugged, affecting more casualness than she felt. "I like seeing them. We've become friends."

"Friends," Lanie repeated. "You and Richard Castle are just friends."

Yes, they really were. "Yeah, we're friends." Good friends, even, she rather thought. Surprisingly. She wasn't someone who trusted easily or shared anything about her life readily but with Castle, it was different. She had talked to him not just about light, everyday things, but about her parents, about her job and why she did what she did, about his daughter. She… trusted him, somehow, so yes, she supposed they were good friends now. And how else could she explain the way she just enjoyed his company, looked forward to seeing him? Him and Alexis too, of course, she amended immediately. It wasn't just Castle. "He's easy to talk to and Alexis is fun too."

"Doesn't hurt that he's also really easy on the eyes," Lanie noted. "And don't even try to tell me you haven't noticed because if you haven't, you belong on this table more than Mr. Erskine here does," she finished, referring to the victim.

"I have eyes, Lanie," Kate defended—and yes, her eyes definitely appreciated Castle but so what? Besides, she'd already decided that her reaction to Castle was less about him specifically and more about the fact that it had simply been a long time since she'd been with anyone so of course, she was more inclined to notice Castle's attractiveness. It wasn't really about Castle. ( _Liar_ , a little voice in her mind spoke up. She ignored it.). "But he has a girlfriend, remember? And from the picture I saw in the paper the other day, they seem very happy together," she added. There had been one of those brief celebrity sighting mentions of Castle in Page Six just last weekend, showing a picture of him having a cozy, romantic dinner with a gorgeous blonde identified as his girlfriend and editor, Gina Cowell. Castle had been holding hands across the table with her; the caption of the picture noted that the two were gazing into each other's eyes and speculated that wedding bells might be in the future.

"I saw that picture too," Lanie agreed. "But you're still friends with Castle and arranging dinner dates with him and his daughter and then moping when you have to change plans? Kate…"

"I was not moping," Kate denied immediately. "I may have been a little disappointed but it's not the same thing and anyway, we were supposed to go to Remy's and I've been looking forward to one of their burgers all week."

"Sure and you always bite my head off because of a change in plans," Lanie noted dryly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just tired and I was looking forward to a burger tonight." Really, it had nothing to do with Castle at all. Or not much. And sure, seeing that picture of Castle in the paper might have made her stomach feel a little funny but that could have been exhaustion or indigestion, combined with the weirdness of seeing someone she knew in the papers, that was all.

"Uh huh. I did warn you to be careful with Castle since he does have a girlfriend."

"It's fine, Lanie. It's not like that with me and Castle."

"Okay, if you insist. But that does remind me, I wanted to mention, there's this new detective who just transferred into the 28th Precinct after cutting his teeth with the Philly PD. Aside from being hot, he also happened to mention that he'd like to get to know more of his fellow cops in the city, if you're interested."

Lanie's tone and her expression made it clear she wasn't talking about professional networking, even if Kate wouldn't have already guessed that just from knowing Lanie. Kate didn't bother to hide her rolling her eyes or hold back her little weary sigh. They had had this talk before but Lanie was persistent. Well-meaning and somehow falling on the right side of friendly encouragement but persistent. "I'm not looking for a relationship, you know that, Lanie."

"That's the funny thing about relationships. You might not be looking but sometimes they just find you."

"That's not going to happen," Kate vowed, sincerely believing it was true. Of course it was true. She had no interest in meeting this new detective, whoever he was, and Castle had a girlfriend and they were only friends anyway. "I mean, really, you know what my life is like. I work most of the time and with the way bodies drop at all hours, I can't control my own schedule and I'm going to sign up to take the detectives' exam when it's offered in a few weeks."

That distracted Lanie at least. "Going for detective already, Beckett? You don't waste time, do you?"

Kate bit her lip. Was she rushing things a little? "Well, I just figured I'd get the exam out of the way since after February, it won't be offered again until July and who knows, I might not even pass it the first time around. I'm not planning to submit my application until the summer though, was going to wait until I put in a full year in Homicide." The beginning of August would mark her one-year anniversary in Homicide so that was what she was aiming for when it came to submitting her application. She thought—well, she hoped—that Detectives Hassan and Scanlon would sign off on her application and she believed that Montgomery would too. But of course, One PP could also get involved with detective applications because while the current Chief of Detectives tended to be hands-off when it came to these things, that didn't mean the pattern would hold.

"You've got it all planned out, don't you, Beckett?"

"Planning ahead helps me keep things organized." It also helped because she didn't have much, if any, control over her shift schedule so planning ahead even to this extent made her feel somewhat better, more in control of her own life.

"Yeah, I know what you're like, Beckett," Lanie agreed. "Just do me a favor and at least try to plan in some fun too?"

Kate relaxed into a smile. "Yeah, I can probably do that. I still plan to keep meeting with Castle and Alexis, if you must know. I think seeing them, seeing Alexis's smile and listening to her talk, is good for me." She lifted her shoulders into a small shrug. "It makes me feel better somehow, happier. And they make me laugh."

Now Lanie smiled. "I'm glad, Kate, because if anyone needs to laugh more, it's you."

Kate smiled almost in spite of herself. "Yeah, well, both Castle and Alexis are pretty good at making me laugh."

"No wonder you were pouting at missing out on dinner with them. He's handsome and charming and funny and his kid is cute and funny, a deadly combination."

"Alexis is smart too. She's only 9 and she's reading books that I don't think I read until I was in 5th or 6th grade."

"Good for her." Lanie threw her an odd look and Kate belatedly wondered when—and why—she'd started to boast about Alexis as if Kate herself had anything at all to do with Alexis's cleverness. She found herself remembering the way Castle had asserted that he could boast about his favorite daughter—not that this was anything at all like that and in fact, she should stop thinking about irrelevant things. Friends were allowed to be proud of each other so that was all it was, that Kate was being Alexis's friend.

The computer in the corner made a small ping-ing noise and Lanie moved around to peer at the display. "And look at that, the lab results are back." She paused and then went on, "Cause of death was officially asphyxiation but it was brought on by nicotine poisoning. Based on that, I'm narrowing time of death to between 4 and 7 this morning."

"Thanks, Lanie. Back to work for me."

"And me," Lanie agreed, making a face. "Break's over. I'll talk to you later, Beckett."

"Yeah, see you around, Lanie." Kate left the morgue with a wave of her hand, her phone already in hand to text Detectives Hassan and Scanlon the updated time of death window. And tried very hard not to think about the fact that if she hadn't gotten called onto this case, she would probably have been settling into a booth at Remy's—and seeing Castle's and Alexis's smiles—at that very moment. She suppressed a sigh and then shoved all thoughts of writers and bright-eyed children out of her mind. Work, she had to focus on work.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: As always, thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, or added this fic to their favorites. It is much appreciated.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 15_

"Kate!"

Kate recognized the voice and was already smiling as she turned to see Alexis come pelting towards her, her red hair flying out behind her like a banner.

"Hi, Kate!" Alexis threw herself at Kate, wrapping her arms around Kate's waist as Kate caught her, aware of a flare of warmth in her chest. She wasn't much of a hugger; her dad was the only person she hugged on a regular basis, but this spontaneous gesture of affection from a girl she was starting to care about more and more just did something to her. This was more… precious.

And oh god, since when did Alexis greet her with a hug anyway? (And why did she like it so much?)

"Hi, Alexis." Kate smiled down at the girl, reaching out to smooth a few strands of the girl's wind-blown hair in an unthinking movement, as Alexis released her with a grin. Kate turned her eyes to the girl's father as Castle caught up to them. "Hey, Castle."

"Hey, Beckett," he echoed, humor dancing in his eyes. "I think my daughter might be happy to see you," he added dryly.

Kate grinned, feeling the muscles in her cheeks stretching from the unaccustomed wideness of her smile. God, this family that could have her grinning from ear to ear like a loon. "Maybe she's just excited about the burgers," she quipped.

Castle laughed. "Well, I know the burgers are the only reason I'm here," he joked.

"Daddy, that's not polite," Alexis interjected as she fell into step beside Kate. "Kate, did you have a good day at work?"

"It was okay, pretty quiet," Kate answered. It had been a pretty boring day because Detective Hassan had had her spending most of it going through the latest victim's financial records but at least, the assignment meant that she could leave at the end of her shift and make this dinner without needing to cancel again. "How was your day at school?"

"It was good. We started reading a new book in class today," Alexis began cheerfully before giving a brief summary of the things they'd studied. She broke off as they reached Remy's and Castle pulled open the door for them with an exaggeratedly courtly gesture that had Alexis giggling.

A server led them to a booth towards the back and Kate automatically slid into the side facing the door while Castle ushered Alexis into the booth first before seating himself opposite Kate.

"I have been looking forward to another of these burgers for a week," Castle declared as he opened the menu.

"Yeah, me too," Kate admitted exchanging a smile with him before turning to Alexis. "They make really good milkshakes here too, Alexis."

"Ooh, I like milkshakes."

"Good, you'll have to order one then."

A waitress appeared with a bland smile. "Hi, I'm Tracy, and I'll be your—" Her eyes had flitted indifferently over Kate and Alexis and now froze on Castle and Kate glanced up to see the slightly glazed look of shock on her features. Celebrity sighting, here we go. And as if to echo the thought, the waitress's expression lit up with excitement. "Oh my god, you're Richard Castle! You're my absolute favorite author! I've read every single one of your books and I can't believe you're really here."

Kate's eyes flickered to Castle to see how he was reacting to this in time to see Castle's expression morph into one of charming friendliness—or was that friendly charm?—an expression Kate recognized but after weeks of interacting with Castle as a friend, she was a little startled to realize just how different this publicity smile was from his real smiles. The easy warmth in his eyes that she'd become accustomed to seeing was gone, his posture almost imperceptibly stiffer. She remembered what Alexis had said about Castle not seeming like her dad when he was on TV and this, while more subdued to suit the more personal nature of the encounter, was just as much of an act as his TV celebrity persona. And for the first time, it occurred to her that Castle's charm was something of a defense mechanism, kept people at a distance—and she ought to know it because she was no stranger to keeping people at a distance.

"Well, thank you very much, Tracy. It's always good to meet a fan and it's so nice of you to say so," he greeted, holding out a hand for her to shake, which she did with alacrity. "I guess you'll be acting as our fairy godmother today to bring us what we want?" he asked genially, neatly bringing the subject back to their orders.

Tracy gave a somewhat breathless laugh. "Oh yes, of course, what can I get you?"

"Ladies first. Kate, what will you have?" Castle directed Tracy's attention.

"A strawberry milkshake and a Remy's house cheeseburger."

Castle turned to Alexis, his entire demeanor softening as always when he addressed his daughter. "A strawberry milkshake for you too, right, pumpkin, just like Princess Strawberry Sparkle?"

Princess Strawberry Sparkle? Alexis let out a little giggle at the name and nodded. "Yes, please, and I'll have a kids' cheeseburger with no onions."

"And I'll have a chocolate milkshake with a bacon cheeseburger. Thank you, Tracy."

"Oh of course, Mr. Castle, right away." Tracy answered eagerly, turned, and then paused and added, the words almost seeming impelled from her, "You're even handsomer in person than you are in your pictures."

"Thank you, Tracy."

Tracy left and Kate raised her eyebrows at him teasingly and Castle shrugged a little. "That happens sometimes. Sorry," he said unrepentantly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Alexis huffed and leaned across the table towards Kate. "Girls say that Daddy's handsome a lot," she confided in a loud whisper. "They flirt with him and I think it's silly."

Kate could hardly blame these nameless girls for that; Castle was handsome. Very handsome, even. She shoved the irrelevant thought aside and forcibly kept her gaze on Alexis. "That's okay, Alexis, I'm sure your dad's girlfriend can protect your dad from any girls who might flirt too much," she added teasingly.

"Oh, Gina's not Daddy's girlfriend anymore," Alexis volunteered blithely. "Do you have a boyfriend, Kate?"

The question nearly overlapped with Castle's surprised burst. "Alexis!" His eyes were abruptly wide and a little embarrassed. "That's not—you shouldn't just ask something like that."

Alexis turned questioning eyes on Castle, giving Kate a moment to try to regain some composure at Alexis's innocent revelation that had made Kate almost choke on air. Castle had broken up with his girlfriend. He was single. Since when? And why the hell did it even matter to her since she and Castle were only friends and she didn't like Castle like that and she didn't want to be in a relationship anyway? It _didn't_ matter to her except out of simple curiosity in a friend's life. She'd be just as interested if she found out that Lanie had a new boyfriend. (That was her story and she was sticking to it.)

"Alexis, remember what we talked about the other day about not talking about people when they don't know about it? This is part of that; talking about people's boyfriends or girlfriends isn't something you should just blurt out like that."

"Oh." Alexis looked rather abashed. "Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Kate. I didn't know that wasn't something to talk about."

"It's okay, Alexis. You didn't say anything really wrong, just a little… surprising. So maybe try to ask first before you say something like that in public?" Castle suggested carefully.

"But Daddy, Kate's not 'public,' she's our friend and friends talk to each other, don't they?"

Kate bit back a smile. Clever girl that Alexis was.

Castle briefly glanced up to the ceiling as if asking for help from some higher power before giving into the smile tugging at his mouth. "Okay, Alexis, you win with your impeccable reasoning."

"What's impeckible mean?" Alexis asked, sounding the unfamiliar word out awkwardly.

"Impeccable," Castle enunciated carefully, "It means perfect."

"Impeccable," the girl repeated and then smiled brightly. "Thank you, Daddy."

Kate smiled. Alexis really was too cute. And speaking of cute… "Who is Princess Strawberry-Sparkle?"

"Oh, she was my absolute favorite heroine," Alexis enthused.

Castle pulled a pout. "She's not your favorite anymore? I think I'm hurt."

"Daddy, don't be silly," Alexis scolded mildly, leaning over to nudge Castle's arm with her head. "She'll always be my favorite because she's yours."

This Princess Strawberry-Sparkle was Castle's?

"No, she's _ours_ ," Castle corrected. "You named her and you gave me a lot of ideas for her." He turned his eyes to Kate. "Princess Strawberry-Sparkle is a character I made up for Alexis's bedtime stories years ago," he explained. "Alexis chose her name."

"And Daddy told me stories about all her cool adventures and how she saved her kingdom lots of times because she's smart and brave," Alexis chimed in.

Richard Castle, the Master of the Macabre, had come up with a series of bedtime stories involving a character named Princess Strawberry-Sparkle for his daughter. That might just be the most adorable thing Kate had ever heard.

"That sounds like fun," Kate began only to be interrupted by the arrival of their milkshakes.

Castle thanked Tracy with another of his impersonal publicity smiles that still had Tracy blushing and almost stuttering in her eagerness to assure them (well, him) of her willingness to get them anything they might want. Really, the man's smile should come with a warning label. Kate could certainly understand how Rick Castle would have earned his playboy reputation. She doubted he'd ever even had to try. The only surprising thing was that she would have expected him to be an arrogant jerk—as so many men who were good-looking, famous, and rich were—but perhaps due to the influence of Alexis, he wasn't.

Alexis had already tried her milkshake and now looked up and declared, "I think these milkshakes are impeccable."

It was somewhat awkward phrasing but Alexis sounded so proud to be using this new vocabulary word that at that moment, Kate felt she would rather cut off her own arm than laugh and make Alexis think that she was laughing at her. Kate bit her lip to hold back the laugh, her eyes meeting Castle's across the table to see that his eyes too were filled with laughter and their eyes held on a moment of shared amusement that had her suddenly feeling irrationally close to him. It was strangely… intimate, to meet someone's eyes and know that they were thinking the same thing.

The thought, the word, had heat creeping into her cheeks and Kate abruptly jerked her eyes away, ducking her head as she sought a distraction. "Oh, Alexis, that reminds me, I have a little something for you."

Alexis's eyes went wide. "You do? What is it?"

Kate gave a little laugh. "It's nothing much but I was down at One PP the other day and I thought you might like this," she explained as she bent down to her bag and retrieved the little item from one of the inner pockets before straightening and placing it on the table in front of Alexis.

It was a plastic replica of an NYPD Officer's badge that read "Junior Officer" on it. The NYPD made them for officers to take to schools on occasional visits for events like Career Day or some public safety announcement things—and yes, for officers' children too. She'd needed to go down to One PP to sign up to take the Detectives' Exam and had decided to pick one up for Alexis.

She was amply rewarded for the impulse by the girl's smile. "Oh, it's so cool! Thank you, Kate! Look, Daddy, it says 'Junior Officer' on it and I can put it on!"

"Yes, I see, pumpkin, and it is very cool," Castle smiled, helping Alexis pin the plastic badge on her shirt. He directed his smile to Kate with so much gratitude in his expression it abashed her since really, it wasn't anything much at all and he was looking at her as if she'd just gifted Alexis with the Crown Jewels. "Thank you, Kate. Oh, what does One PP stand for?"

"Oh right, sorry, it's cop shorthand for One Police Plaza, also known less affectionately as the Puzzle Palace," she added, including the irrelevant detail since he of all people would appreciate it.

He grinned. "Cool. Puzzle Palace, I like it. Thanks."

"And actually, Castle, I got something for you too," she began before she could think better of it.

"You did? You shouldn't have. Ooh, did you get me a Junior Officer badge too?"

The man was a 12-year-old. "Not exactly." She bent down to her bag again for the other little thing she'd picked up, quelling the little flutter from second-guessing herself. It had been an impulse, not the sort of thing she did, getting a silly gag gift for someone, and yet when she'd seen it in one of those kitschy tourist-trap stores, she'd gone in to get it.

Too late to take it back now. She placed the chocolate police badge in front of him. The man fed her several amazing home-cooked meals, to say nothing of tiramisu that was out of this world—and made her laugh more than she had in years, brightening up her life—and she got him a cheap gag gift to make fun of him. Great.

For a split second, he blinked at the chocolate badge and then he threw his head back and laughed loud enough to make several heads turn.

She felt her nerves disappear, replaced by a stupid flare of pleasure at having made him laugh.

Alexis was giggling quietly at Castle's laughter by the time he recovered some composure, his face now a little flushed, his eyes dancing. "Thank you, Officer Beckett, you're too kind."

Kate grinned. "You're welcome, Castle."

Alexis leaned into her dad. "Now we both have badges, Daddy."

"Yeah, we do. Cool, isn't it?"

"Uh huh," Alexis nodded and turned a bright smile to Kate. "Thank you, Kate." She paused and then leaned forward. "Kate, why do you have a ring on your necklace?"

Kate froze, one hand automatically going up her chest, closing around her mom's ring that must have slipped out from the collar of her shirt when she'd bent over to her bag. Oh, shit. Any and all good feelings that had been engendered from the merriment of the last few minutes abruptly died.

She swallowed and of their own volition, her eyes sought Castle's to see that he'd sobered, concern entering his face. He'd guessed what the ring was for. Of course he had; he knew about her mom.

"Alexis, sweetie," he began quietly and she realized he was planning to step in, deflect, distract Alexis. As he had before.

She should let him. Was going to let him but then for no good reason, she suddenly remembered the look on Castle's face as he said that he tried never to lie to Alexis. Remembered the fleeting shadow on Alexis's expression as she talked about how her mom had been too busy to spend much time with her when she had visited over Christmas. "I wear it because of my mom," she heard her own voice say, overlapping with Castle's.

He broke off and stared at her and somehow she read his thoughts. _You don't have to talk about this._

She forced a wan attempt at a reassuring smile, little more than a twitch of her lips. _It's okay._

She might have gone crazy, to be imagining this exchange, but she returned her gaze to Alexis, swallowing hard as she tried to decide what she could say. "I wear the ring to remind me of my mom, Alexis," she said quietly. "She… died a few years ago."

The little girl's expression changed dramatically as she paled, looking stricken. "Oh no, that's so sad. What happened? Was she sick?"

Shit. Why oh why had she started this? Beside Alexis, she saw Castle shift, his arm slipping around the girl's shoulders, as if to serve as a bulwark against what he knew was coming. Alexis wasn't alone. "No," Kate answered slowly, "she wasn't sick. She… um… a bad man hurt her and she… died."

Her throat was already tight just from having to tell this story but the pressure got worse as she heard Alexis give a little sniff, her eyes wide and a little watery. Shit, oh shit, now she'd gone and made this little girl cry. Kate could have kicked herself. What the hell had she been thinking? Stupid, stupid, this was why she had no business spending time with a little kid. She was too damaged, her life too dark. Shit.

"You mean like in Daddy's books? I'm so sorry, Kate," Alexis breathed and then she was poking at Castle's encircling arm. "Move please, Daddy."

He blinked but then complied, sliding out of the booth and helping Alexis out.

And then Kate froze and stared again as she found herself pulled into a hug, the little girl climbing into the booth beside her and wrapping her thin arms around Kate's waist. Kate returned the embrace automatically, conscious of the solid warmth of the little body against her own and feeling the warmth spread, encompass her heart.

"I'm sorry, Kate," Alexis said again. "You must get so sad when you miss your mom. I get sad sometimes too because my mommy lives far away and so I can't see her often but it's better because I can still talk to my mommy on the phone and see her sometimes."

Oh god, this little girl's empathy was breaking her heart. From across the table, she heard a soft intake of breath from Castle but couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"You still have your dad though, right, Kate?"

Kate managed to swallow the lump in her throat. "Yeah, I still have my dad. He lives right here in New York so I see him every week."

Alexis lifted her head and gave Kate a small, wavering, brave smile. "That's good. Daddy always helps me feel better when I'm sad about Mommy being far away so I'm glad you still have your dad to help you feel better, Kate."

Yeah, this girl was going to be the death of her. And oh god, she suddenly found herself remembering something she'd almost forgotten, or more accurately, had tried to block from her memory: the day of her mom's funeral. The way she and her dad had snuck out from the wake and gone up to Coney Island and walked along the beach for miles. She remembered the warm weight of her dad's arm around her shoulders as the wind buffeted them, remembered the way the wind had teased her hair out of any semblance of neatness. And she remembered, too, her dad's voice, his expression, as he'd assured her that they would get through this because they still had each other. Only it hadn't been true. It was the first promise he had ever really broken to her, the first of many, until she no longer believed her dad's promises. It was completely irrational but somehow Alexis's words, innocent as they were, made her feel a strange flicker of hope that maybe, even after all this time, she and her dad really could recover some measure of their old relationship. Because at least he was sober now. Still. And if he stayed sober, then maybe, with time, old hurts could be healed.

Kate managed a small smile for Alexis's benefit although she had to swallow a lump of emotion before she could speak. "You know what else helps me feel better when I'm sad?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, what?"

Kate's smile came a little easier now as she answered, honestly, "Spending time with you, Alexis."

Alexis's eyes went wide but this time it wasn't with sadness. "Me? But how? What do I do?"

Kate's answer came without thought. "You glow."

Alexis blinked and then a little frown of confusion drew her brows together. "What? No, I don't. I'm not a firefly; I don't glow in the dark."

Amazingly, this literal response made something like laughter bubble up inside her but before she could even try to explain, she heard Castle clear his throat and step into the breach. "Alexis, sweetie, Kate doesn't mean that you actually glow in the dark but that you have a way of making her feel happier. You remember that talk we had about how people sometimes describe things by comparing them to something else?"

Alexis straightened up, her face becoming thoughtful. "Like when you say something is as flat as a pancake even though it's not a pancake?"

Castle smiled. "Yes, very good, Alexis. When Kate said you glow, she meant that you manage to make her feel happier, brighter the same way the sunshine makes the world brighter. And she's absolutely right; you are very good at making people happy. You do it for me all the time."

"I do?" Alexis questioned as if this was an entirely new idea to her and then pitched into Kate's side to hug her again. "I'm glad I can make you feel better, Kate. You make me feel better too," she offered generously before sliding off the bench and into Castle's arms. "And you always make me feel better, Daddy."

Castle pressed his lips to Alexis's hair. "You do the same thing for me, pumpkin."

They had attracted some attention from other guests at Remy's, Kate noted as Alexis and Castle slid back into their seats but she couldn't bring herself to care about it. Her control over her emotions still felt tenuous and in an attempt to regain her composure, she blurted out without even an attempt at a segue, "So Alexis, are you learning anything interesting in school right now?"

The abrupt change of subject made Castle blink and Alexis frown a little in confusion and somehow, she didn't know quite how it happened, but her eyes met Castle's and first she smiled rather sheepishly and then he laughed and then they were both laughing and Alexis joined in with her own giggle and Kate wasn't sure if the girl understood what was making the grown-ups laugh like hyenas or if she was only laughing in sympathy. But whatever the case, they all cracked up and when their hilarity faded, Kate felt oddly… cleansed, as if the outburst of laughter had been the cathartic release she'd needed after the emotional upheaval of the last couple minutes. She felt better somehow for having laughed, strangely comforted.

She calmed herself and managed a more normal smile. "Sorry, Alexis, I didn't mean to ask so suddenly."

Alexis's smile was untroubled. "It's okay, Kate, I understand. And yes, I'm having fun in school."

Of course she was. "And how is Barty the turtle doing?" Kate asked only for there to be a brief pause as their burgers arrived.

"He's doing really well," Alexis answered enthusiastically before they were all distracted by eating their burgers. Silence reigned for a little while at their table as they ate but not for long as Alexis finished half of her kid-size burger relatively quickly and took a sip of her milkshake before continuing on to enthuse about the experience of having a class pet. Apparently, she and her classmates teamed up in pairs to clean his tank every week and feed him every day and while his tank was being cleaned, they got to take him out and play with him. On the weekends, Barty went home with one member of the class to be looked after over the weekend, going in alphabetical order to prevent any disputes. "So this weekend, Barty's going home with Kelly Bryson and then it'll be my turn because Castle starts with C."

"I like how the school didn't bother to ask any of us parents if we wanted to pet-sit a turtle for a weekend before arranging this scheme," Castle added dryly as an aside.

"Shush, Castle," Kate scolded mildly, hiding a smile. "Alexis is looking forward to bringing Barty home for a weekend. Aren't you, Alexis?"

"Uh huh," Alexis affirmed, nodding so energetically it made her hair flare out. "And we're learning about turtles too," she went on, proceeding to relate interesting pieces of turtle trivia like the fact that turtles have been around since the time of the dinosaurs so they're basically the last dinosaurs themselves and they come in all shapes and sizes from just a couple inches long up to a few feet in length and big enough for people to try to ride on them and some turtles live really long lives.

Kate listened to this blithe and informative prattle with interest, hiding the occasional smile at Alexis's transparent enthusiasm. It was hard not to feel a little flare of interest as a reflection of Alexis's own infectious joy.

"And some turtles become mutant ninjas named after Renaissance artists," Castle interjected with mock solemnity as Alexis paused for breath in her disquisition about turtles.

Kate choked on a laugh and Alexis shot Castle a little scowl that had her looking older than her years. "Don't be silly, Daddy. Mutant ninja turtles aren't real."

Castle pasted on a look of wide-eyed surprise. "They might exist; after all, they hide in the sewers and how would you know what might happen to turtles if they were exposed to some crazy radiation that made them mutants?" He threw Kate a look of mock pleading. "Help me out here, Kate. It's possible, right?"

Kate sternly suppressed a smile as she answered, "Sorry, Castle, I'm going with Alexis on this one. Mutant ninja turtles don't exist."

Castle threw her a look of exaggerated reproach that had Alexis giggling. "See, Daddy, Kate says so too!" She held up a hand and Kate high-fived the girl, exchanging grins with her as Castle subsided with a pout.

"Daddy's so silly sometimes," Alexis said, shooting Castle an impish little grin as she said it.

Kate laughed. "Yeah, he is silly." He was also kind of adorable but she kept that part to herself because it didn't matter anyway.

Alexis poked Castle in the arm. "Move please, Daddy. I need to go to the bathroom."

He obediently stood up. "You need me to go with you?"

Alexis huffed a funny little sigh. "No, Daddy, I'm not a baby anymore."

"Right, I keep forgetting, you're super grown-up now, aren't you?" Castle quipped.

Alexis only stuck her tongue out at him, rather belying her claim to maturity, and Castle grinned before he resumed his seat.

"Nine going on nineteen," he commented quietly, his eyes on Alexis as she walked away.

Kate smiled. His entire expression changed, softened, whenever he looked at his daughter.

He blinked and turned back to her, his expression sobering. "I wanted to say, thanks for telling Alexis about your mom. I know it wasn't easy for you so I appreciate that you were honest."

Her lips twisted a little. "I don't know why you should thank me for making her cry and possibly traumatizing her."

"Kate, no, the important thing—and what matters to me—is that you made her smile again. What you said to her, that was perfect."

"I meant it." She gave him a small smile. "Thank you for sharing some of your beacon of light with me." She said it rather lightly but realized she actually did mean it. She already knew that he protected Alexis but it occurred to her, belatedly, that even from the first, he had not tried to keep distance between her and Alexis. He had trusted her with Alexis even before he had asked her to step in and babysit Alexis when he couldn't find someone else to watch her.

Something she couldn't read flitted across his face but then he assumed an easy smile. "You got me a chocolate police badge and are buying us dinner, I think we're even," he joked.

A huff of a laugh escaped her. He really was generous, making a joke to demur thanks. "Well, that was easy," she quipped in return.

"What can I say, I'm a simple man," he grinned.

She scoffed. "Is that your excuse for believing in mutant ninja turtles too?"

"Touché, Officer Beckett. And no, that's just because ninjas are awesome."

He would say that. "You really are a 12-year-old sometimes, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "You're a cop. You should have figured that out already."

"Oh, I have," she responded dryly. "I just thought it was worth mentioning it again."

He laughed. "I can't argue with that. And I think ninjas are always worth mentioning."

"I was talking about your childishness but sure, if you say so," she teased.

"I do say so," he said with mock solemnity. "Ninjas are always worth mentioning."

She took it back. He might be a 10-year-old or even younger than that. She just didn't know why she found it funny rather than irritating. "Yeah, I definitely see why Alexis says she's more mature than you are."

He made a show of being offended. "I'll have you know that I am a model of mature behavior."

"Of course you are, Mr. I-Stole-a-Police-Horse," she mocked.

"Hey! Isn't that an abuse of police privileges to look up my confidential police file and then use it against me?" he pretended to grumble.

She shrugged. "No, that actually sounds a lot like what cops have to do all the time."

"Anything I say can be used against me in a court of law?" he quipped.

"Exactly," she smirked at him.

"Still not fair, any more than it's fair to use my daughter's opinion against me especially since I think Alexis teases me because my mother eggs her on and encourages her to say things like that," he pretended to complain.

"Your mother sounds like a woman of sound good sense," she quipped.

He laughed. "Oh, you definitely haven't met my mother if you can say that about Hurricane Martha."

"Hurricane Martha?" she laughed.

"Believe me when I say it suits her. I'm trying to convince her to get her name legally changed to be Hurricane Martha Rodgers," he informed her with mock seriousness.

"As a stage name goes, I guess I've heard worse," she pretended to think about it. In all seriousness, she was getting curious to meet Martha Rodgers after all Alexis said about her and listening to the way Castle talked about her too. She knew Martha Rodgers had raised Castle as a single mom and Castle's teasing was always underlaid with affection so she guessed they were closer than Castle's words might indicate. So at the very least, their relationship would not be boring to witness.

"I'll tell her you approve then," he joked.

Kate opened her mouth to respond but before she could, Alexis's voice interjected from behind her, "Approve of what?"

Kate swivelled around to see Alexis looking curious.

Castle scooted over on the bench and tucked Alexis into his side. "We were talking about Grams," he explained.

The girl's face lit up with a smile that spoke volumes for how she viewed her grandmother. "Grams is such fun, Kate."

"So I hear."

"You should come over again and we'll invite Grams so that way you can meet her," Alexis suggested.

She was a little surprised at the depths of the reluctance she felt in having to give her answer. She really was getting too involved with these two, liking Castle and Alexis too much. "I'm going to be busy the next few weeks so I'm not sure I can, Alexis. Sorry." It was what she needed to do and it occurred to her that it might be… better… to help her not get too spoiled with their company, help her not to start relying on them too much to brighten up her life. And it was probably safer for Alexis's sake too, not to allow the little girl to get too used to seeing Kate so often, not allow the little girl to get too attached. This friendship had been so… easy and, yes, good for her, she could admit that, but it would be better to keep some balance, some distance. Remind her of what this friendship was—and what it was not.

"Oh. Are you going to be busy with your job?"

"Yes, my job and also because I have a big test coming up that I need to study for."

"A test?"

Alexis's question overlapped with Castle's. "Oh, is it the Detective's exam? You said you were thinking of taking it in February."

He remembered that? She'd mentioned it to him the first dinner they'd had here at Remy's but that had been almost two months ago. And given the flood of questions about her job he'd asked her afterwards, she was surprised that he remembered this particular tidbit. He really had been listening. "Yes, it's the Detective's exam. That's actually why I was down at One PP the other day, to sign up for it."

"Is it a hard test?" Alexis inquired.

"I don't really know," she answered honestly. "But I do have to study for it." She would need to know NYPD policies and procedures backwards and forwards, at the very least, including the more obscure rules on paper that were usually winked at in practice. And it wasn't as if she had an overabundance of free time now as it was.

"When is the exam?" Castle asked.

"It's just over three weeks from now, on the 21st."

"Okay," he nodded. "Well, we're not going anywhere so just let us know when you'll be free to come over after the exam. We can celebrate."

"Better hold the celebration until I find out if I pass the exam or not," she said dryly but couldn't hold back her smile.

"I think you'll pass, Kate, because you're smart and you'll study hard for it," Alexis offered confidently.

"Yeah, what she said," Castle concurred.

Kate had to smile. The rational part of her mind was telling her that they didn't know anything about the detectives' exam but how could she not appreciate their votes of confidence in spite of that? "Thanks."

Castle nodded. "So we'll just take a rain check for when you're done with your exam and then it's up to your usual work schedule."

"Yeah, we can wait," Alexis chimed in.

He—they—were making it so easy for her, essentially putting themselves at her disposal for their next dinner. But then they always had, really. They made things easy. Made it easy to like them, easy to spend time with them, easy to smile and laugh. Too easy, really.

"Thank you. That's nice to know," she said, rather lamely.

But fortunately before anyone could dwell on the inanity of what she'd said, Tracy appeared to collect their plates and see if they wanted dessert. They did want dessert although it took some time to settle on what desserts they each wanted, with Castle and Alexis discussing the relative merits of a slice of pie, a brownie, or ice cream with so much gravity they could have been discussing the redrawing of international boundaries—or to be accurate, Alexis discussed dessert choices gravely while Castle's contributions to the discussion were largely facetious. The dessert question was finally settled—a brownie for Castle, pie for Alexis, and ice cream for Kate—and they ate dessert in easy conversation with Castle doing more of the talking this time as he proceeded to make both Kate and Alexis laugh by making up stories about some of their other fellow diners, insisting some were undercover CIA agents and others were actually foreign royalty in disguise to learn about how everyday Americans lived.

When the check arrived, Castle reached for it and Kate had to put out a hand and stop him. "Uh uh, Castle, this dinner was supposed to be on me, remember?"

He made a small rueful face and relented. "Sorry, force of habit."

Something she couldn't quite read flitted across his face and it occurred to Kate that Castle wouldn't be used to having anyone else pay for anything. Not because he was generous (although she knew he was) but because he was rich and she knew what people were like, how so many people were all too willing to batten onto a multi-millionaire's coat-tails, well, his pockets. And Castle had been thrown into both wealth and fame with his first book when he'd been a college kid. What must that have been like for him?

Kate paid the bill and Castle pulled out a small black moleskine notebook and carefully tore out a sheet of it, scribbling a quick note that he then included with the bill. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him and he shrugged a little, although she noted a trace of self-consciousness in his expression. "A note for Tracy so she has a souvenir of sorts to show people."

It could have been an egotistical gesture but something about his expression, the hint of self-deprecation in it, made it less so. It wasn't about his ego—although it occurred to her that Castle was (apparently) newly single and Tracy was young and reasonably attractive and Castle did have a reputation after all…

Not that she cared. She didn't.

But for all that, she couldn't resist sneaking a quick glance at the note as she counted out the tip.

It was very brief, just a couple lines. And all she could make out in her glance was the end, a very impersonal, _Thanks for reading. Richard Castle._

She suddenly felt a little ridiculous—and a little guilty too—for wondering, for suspecting—what? And why had she cared anyway?

She met his eyes and although nothing changed in his expression to indicate that he'd guessed her thoughts, she felt herself flushing in spite of herself. Damn it. "That's nice of you. You'll probably make her day," she offered.

"What can I say, I'm a nice guy," he said lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She huffed a laugh, relaxing, even as she wondered, again, at how he could do that, set her at ease and make her laugh. "And so modest too," she quipped.

He affected seriousness. "I am pretty great. Don't you think so, Alexis?"

"Don't encourage him, Alexis," Kate inserted teasingly.

Alexis giggled. "I won't. Grams says he's already too vain for his own good."

Castle faked shock and dismay, his jaw dropping in exaggerated fashion. "You would say such a thing about your own father? I'm hurt." He clapped a hand to his chest dramatically and then straightened at Alexis's near-shriek of laughter to say mock seriously, "That's it, Alexis, you and Grams are banned from talking to each other about me."

"Uh uh, you can't make me," Alexis refused in a sing-song tone.

"Hmph, I thought you outgrew saying that in your Terrible Twos," Castle grumbled.

Alexis only grinned at him, entirely unphased by his pretense at annoyance. "Nope."

Kate laughed. Oh damn, she had made her decision and she knew it was necessary, the right thing to do, but it occurred to her that she was going to miss this, the laughter and the fun, in the next few weeks. She was just going to miss _them_ …

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: A somewhat more emotional chapter because it involves Jim—but there will be some Castle too.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 16_

Her mom's birthday that year fell over the weekend and her dad suggested that instead of meeting at Patty's Diner, which had become something of their go-to spot after eating there on that first dinner after his return from rehab or at any other restaurant, she come over and they would have lunch at his apartment.

Kate agreed because she was so leery of disagreeing with her dad on anything, even on something as trivial as where they ate, and because she was so relieved and so thankful that her dad was still sober that it didn't matter much to her where they ate. But even as she agreed, she was aware of a little chill of discomfort or nervousness or something snaking through her gut at the thought. She hadn't actually spent much time in her dad's apartment in months, not since he had finished rehab. She had only stopped by briefly, either to pick him up or drop him off, but it had always been in passing and she'd never stayed for longer than five minutes or so. She hadn't thought anything of it but once he suggested it, she had to fight the instinct to recoil even as she agreed.

It was stupid. Totally irrational of her. She knew that but she still felt it anyway. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her dad's apartment itself—the small one-bedroom he had moved into shortly after her mom had died because he simply could not bear to stay in their old apartment, their happy family home for most of Kate's life now that her mom was gone. It wasn't about the apartment—except it sort of was. Because it was the apartment her dad had lived in when he was drowning. The apartment to which she still had a spare key because of the times she'd come by to check on her dad only to find him passed out on the couch or on the floor or in his bed. The apartment she'd cleaned of more alcohol spills (to say nothing of other things) than she could count, the apartment she'd hunted through every nook and cranny in search of any alcohol so she could throw out anything she found—not that it had ultimately done any good but it had for a time made her feel marginally more useful.

She hated the apartment. Hated it for the memories, hated it because in some irrational corner of her mind, she associated it with her dad's alcoholism, as if it was to blame for it. Because her dad had always been, well, the loving father she'd grown up with in their old family home but then when he'd moved, he'd started to drink and even though she knew in her rational mind that it was correlation and not causation, she couldn't quite get over it.

It was just so _stupid_ and she hated it. It occurred to her that one of the things she hated most about her relationship with her dad was the way it seemed to reduce her into some cringing, terrified child, still convinced that there were monsters in the closet, even as paradoxically, she felt as if her dad's problems had aged her prematurely because she'd had to be the adult, the responsible one, for so long. She had taken over paying the rent and other bills out of her dad's account because for so many years, there was no guarantee that her dad would be in any state to remember such mundane duties. (Her dad had agreed easily when she'd asked him to give her access to his accounts, malleable even when he was sober—but that had hurt too because it was yet more proof of how broken he was. She'd hated it, hated herself for having to ask such a thing, hated herself for the flash of hurt she'd seen in his eyes because of the lack of confidence it showed. But what choice had she had?)

It didn't matter. It was only lunch and short of asking her dad to move—which would require talking to him about why she was uncomfortable in his apartment and was absolutely not an option, not ever—she had no choice. Besides, it was irrational and stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way in the first place.

So she counseled herself as she got out of her car and took a few deep breaths, flattening her hand against her stomach as if it would help, as she walked down the block to her dad's building. She tried to will away the knot of tension sitting like a rock in her stomach but couldn't quite manage it. She just couldn't get over it, all the times she'd come over to see her dad, the stark terror she'd felt sometimes that that would be the day she found her dad, not just passed out, but dead. She sucked in a sharp breath at the word and had to stop walking. Because that was really it. She'd almost never allowed herself to even think of the word but that had been at the bottom of all her fears for all those years, that her dad would follow her mom into the grave, drinking himself to death.

No, stop it! It wasn't going to happen. It wasn't! Her dad was sober now, he was better, and there was nothing to worry about. There _wasn't_. Her dad had finished rehab two months ago and he was still sober. Two months… It was longer than he had ever made it before and she was starting to tentatively stop expecting that he would fall off the wagon (again).

So she didn't know why she was standing here, all but having a nervous breakdown over her dad because he was just fine and they were about to have lunch and everything was going to be fine.

She looked towards her dad's building, fairly nondescript as it was, but not to her. She knew the building too well, still had nightmares sometimes involving her running towards the building after receiving the worst possible phone call, of seeing ambulances and sirens surround the building and knowing it was for her dad. It was so stupid to be investing such significance into a pile of bricks and mortar but some lingering (childish) part of her couldn't get her gut to unclench. Not here, not going towards her dad's apartment that had been the scene of basically all her worst moments with her dad in the last few years. The scene of all the times she'd sobbed and pleaded and cajoled and yelled and begged, all for nothing.

Her breath stuttered in her chest and she had to turn her face towards the wall, shutting her eyes for a moment as she regained her composure. She couldn't do this, couldn't fall apart now. She didn't even know why she was falling apart now when her dad was sober again except that it was her mom's birthday and she'd gone to the cemetery that morning to leave flowers for her mom and now, she was returning to the scene of the crime, as it were, the scene of most of her dad's worst days.

She needed to get a grip. Now. Five minutes ago. Her dad was expecting her for lunch and she needed to be calm and cheerful and happy for her dad's benefit. She breathed in and out slowly, counting out the seconds, as she shoved all her unruly emotions behind a steel-padlocked door and locked them up.

And then for good measure, she pulled out her phone and sought out the last thing that had made her smile. A text message from Castle she'd received yesterday. _You'll be happy to know that Barty the turtle is now installed as the newest temporary resident of the loft._

And then a few minutes later, _Alexis is delighted. But I must say that Barty is not much of a conversationalist._

As it had when she'd first read the texts, Kate found herself smiling. The man was ridiculous but oh, he could make her smile and more and more, she was starting to realize how little she'd actually smiled these last few years. And now, just being given a reason to smile made a little bit of the tension knotted inside her loosen. She was still tense but it was a manageable level of tension.

It allowed her to keep on walking to her dad's apartment. And maybe, this first meal in her dad's apartment would be what she needed to get over this stupid hang-up over the place, like ripping off a band-aid.

She took a deep breath, then manufactured a bright smile and put it on before she knocked on her dad's door.

"Hi, Katie, you made it and you're right on time too."

"Hi, Dad." She stepped into her dad's hug, letting her eyes slip closed for a second. She was only now starting to get used to feeling the strength in her dad's hugs now, the way his arms actually wrapped around her instead of passively accepting her carefully measured hugs with arms about as firm as wet noodles. She missed the sense of security she had used to find in her dad's hugs oh so many years ago, missed feeling… well, like _Katie_ again. Katie had been fearless; Katie had been loved unconditionally; Katie had been happy…

She stepped back and deliberately made her smile widen. "And of course I'm on time. After all, punctuality is the politeness…"

"Of kings," her dad chimed in so they completed the quote in unison. Her dad smiled. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered. I've heard it about a thousand times." From him. It was one of her dad's favorite sayings when she'd been growing up and he'd been drumming into her the importance of punctuality. It had been one of the first signs of how far her dad was slipping when he'd started showing up late to their meetings.

"Well, it's still true," her dad returned.

"I know, Dad." They exchanged smiles and for just a second, Kate could pretend that nothing had ever changed between them, pretend that he had never failed her. "So what's for lunch, Dad? I'm hungry," she said untruthfully. The knot of tension in her stomach had her wondering if she could swallow food at all but obviously she was going to need to eat enough that her dad wouldn't worry.

"I thought I'd keep it simple so I just made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup."

"Comfort food," she smiled. "That's perfect considering how cold it is today." She left unsaid the other reason why she might appreciate comfort food today.

Her dad's expression faltered for a moment and she knew he was realizing what she wasn't saying but he didn't mention her mom's birthday either. He only betrayed the consciousness of the unnamed ghost hovering in the room by starting to bustle around his small kitchen. "Are you fine just drinking water, Katie? I also have juice or some soda if you'd rather have that."

"Water's fine," she assured him. "Let me get it while you finish getting things ready."

She hurried over to the fridge and tried not to react in relief at the fact that her dad's fridge actually looked lived in. He had more than just a pitcher of water and orange juice and a couple cans of soda; he also had eggs and cheese and a half-full jar of pasta sauce and some apples and vegetables. It wasn't the fridge of someone who did a lot of cooking, unsurprisingly, but it was the one of someone who was at least trying to eat healthily. It was reassuring, not least because there was no alcohol.

She poured two glasses of water and set them out, noting as she did so that everything about her dad's apartment was basically reassuring. It was neat but also looked lived-in. There was a historical nonfiction book with a bookmark in it sitting on the coffee table along with a small stack of what looked like work-related papers. It all looked very like her dad-well, like her dad had used to be.

The only thing that made her breath hitch a little was a picture on the bookshelf, an old family picture in which she was in her gangly pre-teen phase ( _ugh, Dad, really?_ ) and flanked on either side by her parents, her mom's wide beaming smile making Kate's heart hurt. Her mom looked so happy and vibrant in the picture, it was almost impossible to believe that her mom wasn't still around, maybe having just stepped out to run an errand and she'd be back any minute now, dispensing smiles and words and affection generously.

"Okay, everything's ready now, Katie."

Kate had to fight not to startle at her dad's voice and immediately turned, pasting on a bright smile as she seated herself at the small dining table. "Everything smells great, Dad. Thanks."

Her dad had already placed a bowl of tomato soup in front of her place and returned in another minute with a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich on it. "Go ahead and get started, Katie."

She ignored that injunction and waited until her dad seated himself with his own sandwich and soup before starting to eat. It was, of course, a simple meal to make but Kate was pleasantly surprised at how good it was, tucking it away as yet another reassuring sign. The tension wasn't gone but a very tiny bit of it flaked away.

"How is work, Dad? Any interesting cases?" she asked brightly. She carefully did not ask how her dad was doing, avoided any implication that he himself might not be fine, that she still doubted his sobriety. She didn't, that was all over.

Her dad answered, giving neutral, lawyerly summaries of the sort of things he was working on and then relating some idle stories of mildly humorous events that had happened at his work and conversations with some of his co-workers.

Kate listened and made carefully cheerful responses, always engaged, always interested, always the perfect happy daughter. (Of course she was. Now. Her abandonment of her dad had happened years ago. She squelched the tiny bitter voice in her mind. It wasn't true. She'd had no choice.)

"And what about you, Katie? How is your work treating you?"

She modulated her smile into something more appropriate to talking about homicide. "It's going well, I think, Dad. It's challenging but I'm learning a lot from both Detectives Hassan and Scanlon and Captain Montgomery of course." She thought and finally settled on adding, "I helped solve our last case because I was the first one who noticed that the victim had a very faint tan line from where he used to wear a ring and that led us to the motive." It was a sterilized account but it would do.

She didn't talk easily about her work, certainly not with her dad but not with anyone else either. Not only because there was a certain amount of confidentiality involved but because not a lot of people wanted to know the dirty details about crimes, but it occurred to her that it was one way in which talking to Castle was different, easier. She didn't really need to censor what she said except in the confidential aspects and then, with his crime writer background, he knew more about the actual procedural aspects than most people which gave him the background knowledge to understand what she meant. (And of course, there was the fact that he was apparently fascinated by her job.) She remembered how he'd immediately leaped to the conclusion that the murderer in the case she'd told him about a couple weeks ago had been living under a stolen identity. It was the sort of deduction only a cop—or a crime writer—would have reached so readily. Funny and a little odd to realize. She would have said that she and Castle had absolutely nothing in common because really, she was a plain cop, he was a multi-millionaire celebrity author, and yet belatedly, it occurred to her that it wasn't true. Somehow, in defiance of everything she would have expected, in a strange way, she and Castle spoke the same language, the language of mysteries and crimes. That was what had allowed them to become friends.

Why was she thinking about Castle now?

She returned her focus to her dad instead as he commented, "That's good to hear. Well, you've always been perceptive, Katie, and I imagine you've only become more so."

Not perceptive enough to realize how fast he was sliding into his alcoholism so many years ago. She shoved aside the thought. That was over now. Her dad was sober. And she needed to stop over-reacting like this to every little reminder.

"I'm going to be taking the detectives' exam in a couple weeks," she told him, staving off the silence with another tidbit of news.

"Becoming a detective should be good for you, Katie, really give you a chance to use your brains," her dad said bracingly.

She forced a light smile. "Well, I need to pass the exam first. I've been trying to study for it in my spare time and it's reminding me how long it's been since I've had to study for a test."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine, Katie. You've done well on every test you've ever taken, except for that biology test in 9th grade that you deliberately didn't study for because you were mad at your teacher."

What? She gaped at him and sputtered. "What—how did you—I never told you that!"

Her dad laughed, more easily and more freely than she'd heard him laugh in, oh, years. He suddenly looked… younger, more like his old self. "Did you think we didn't know that was why you ended up with a C, wasn't it, on that test when you'd never gotten anything below a B in biology before?"

"But—but I never told you! How did you know I didn't study for that test?" She'd never told anyone as far as she remembered. Why broadcast a piece of adolescent folly like that?

Her dad chuckled again, regarding her with one of his old knowing smiles that had her feeling as if the years had rolled away and she was a teenager again. "You didn't need to tell us, Katie, we did know you pretty well. So we could put two and two together. You were outraged that your teacher scheduled the test for the Monday after Thanksgiving so it would ruin the holiday weekend and then when you got the test score back, you were outraged again, but this time it was at yourself because you realized you'd only harmed yourself and it hadn't done any good."

He was exactly right and Kate, annoyingly, felt heat creep into her cheeks. Damn it, no, she was not—refused to blush over a piece of adolescent idiocy from more than a decade ago. But she knew she was blushing. And gaping at her dad like a fish out of water. "But you—you never said anything." Shouldn't they have said something, scolded her? She hadn't wanted to confess it to her parents for that very reason.

"What would have been the point of that? We knew you'd be harder on yourself than we ever could be and you'd learned your lesson. You never didn't study for a test again."

"Well, yeah, but…" she floundered. "I had no idea you knew," she finally said lamely.

"Now you do," her dad gave her a smile that in anyone else she would have termed cheeky. "You're not the only one that can make deductions."

She gaped at him. Was he—he was—he had been teasing her, she realized slowly. Too slowly—she was reacting with all the speed of a stunned turtle—but it was just so strange now. Her relationship with her dad hadn't had the ease that allowed for teasing in years but now, her dad was teasing her like the dad she remembered. She started to laugh, maybe a little harder than was actually warranted, but she couldn't help it. And in her laughter, she felt the bulk of her tension dissolve.

Her dad laughed too, again, and in that moment as she and her dad laughed together in honest amusement as they had not in years, she felt as if some part of their old relationship had settled in place, like a puzzle piece being slotted in. Shared laughter was a healing thing—and she found herself remembering Alexis's innocent words about still having her dad to help her feel better. And for the first time, she really felt as if she had her dad back. Her real dad, the one who had taught her and laughed with her and scolded her and just been there for her, the steady comforting presence. Not the broken, fragile creature he had been.

Their laughter faded into smiles as they resumed eating but Kate had the crazy sense that the sandwich tasted better, the soup richer. With most of the tension gone, she was aware of being hungry, of the fact that she'd barely eaten that day except for gulping down two cups of strong coffee.

And it was, she realized, probably the first time she and her dad had managed to actually talk about the past, their times as a happy family, with any ease and without immediately being stricken by the painful reminder of her mom. They had talked about the old days and the world hadn't fallen apart.

Her dad had, she somewhat belatedly realized, neatly elided any mention of her mom in so many words, had adopted instead the royal 'we' and somehow, ridiculously, that had made it easier. And maybe, she wondered with a pang, if even after six years, her dad still found it more natural to think of himself as part of a couple, part of an "us," and not a single entity. Her parents had always had that sense of togetherness, she remembered, had spoken for each other and presented a united front to her.

The thought, the accompanying memories, sobered her but for the first time in a while, it wasn't a bitter grief. It was gentler than that, if that made any sense.

She might be losing her mind, hysteria from unbridled emotions setting in, a sardonic voice in her mind commented.

They managed the closest thing to an easy conversation over the rest of their sandwiches and soup and then her dad positively refused to let her even help clear up the table afterwards.

"Dad, I can help."

"No, Katie. My apartment, my rules," her dad huffed.

God, he really did sound like a parent again. Stupid emotion tightened her throat and made her give in a little quicker than she otherwise might have.

"So Katie, I stopped off at a European bakery not far from here and bought some baklava for dessert since I know you like it."

Now her smile came easier, even as almost painful hope fluttered to life in her chest. This was more like the dad she remembered, the one who'd brought home random treats for her and for her mom, the one who had once gone to one of Castle's book signings to get a book signed for her mom even though he'd never read a book by Castle in his life and used to tease her mom for doing so.

Her dad had met Castle, even before she had. Funny but that fact had never really struck her before. Of course she hadn't exactly thought about these good memories of her dad much and it had been almost a decade ago but still…

"That sounds great, Dad."

Her dad looked pleased. "And coffee too, right, Katie?"

"Of course, Dad. I never say no to coffee."

He brought her a small plate of baklava and then a mug of coffee along with cream and sugar before returning to his seat with his own dessert and coffee.

He took a sip of his coffee, black, while she doctored hers and then waited, fidgeting with his mug, as she tried her coffee and took the first bite of baklava.

"Katie," he finally began, his voice a little tentative, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

She froze and forced herself to swallow the baklava that suddenly seemed to have taken on all the taste of ashes in her mouth. "Yes, what is it, Dad?" She tried to make her voice sound as welcoming as possible, not giving away any sign of the apprehension she felt.

"You know, I… it's been two months since I finished rehab."

She felt as if her lunch was congealing in her stomach. Of course she knew but she didn't want to talk about it. She and her dad didn't really talk about his troubles, not really, not since he'd gone to rehab. Not since before that, since they hadn't directly talked about his struggles in years, really. Not since she'd given up on trying to convince him to stop drinking actually. Talking about it had never done any good. If her words were going to do any good, he wouldn't have drowned in a bottle for five years, an astringent voice commented.

"I know, Dad." She pasted on a small reassuring smile. "And I'm… I'm so proud of you." It wasn't a lie, she told herself. She was proud of her dad for making it this far—she just wished she could really believe it would last. Wished that she could just feel proud untainted by anything else, no more fear, no more hurt, no more anger.

Something spasmed across her dad's expression. "Thank you, Katie, I know it's not… It's just the start, Katie, I know that but I was thinking…"

He paused again and she forced another encouraging little smile to her lips. "What were you thinking?" she asked.

He looked up and met her eyes squarely now. "You've taken over most of the day to day responsibilities of my life for years now, Katie, paying rent and taking care of the bills. I appreciate that. I don't know where I'd be now if you hadn't. But Katie, I think… I think it's time now that I started taking responsibility for my own life again, fully. You shouldn't have to keep looking after me like that, Katie. It's time I stepped up to the plate," he finished, his lips twisting a little at the baseball expression.

She didn't know how she felt. This was a good thing, right, her dad taking responsibility for his own life again? He needed to do that, needed to become a fully functioning adult again. She should be happy, should be supportive—she _did_ support this, really, she did. Ugh, what was the matter with her?

She hadn't been happy about needing to get access to her dad's accounts so she could pay his rent and things like that. She'd hated this evidence of how much her dad's life had fallen apart and she'd hated that she needed to be the responsible adult when her dad was not capable of it. She'd hated it so why wasn't she thrilled now?

Her eyes fell, avoiding her dad's eyes, and landed on her dad's wrist and then stalled. He wasn't… he wasn't wearing the watch she had given him. He had always worn that watch, since she'd given it to him for Father's Day when she was 15. It had been the first real nice gift she'd bought for her dad entirely with her own money. Before then, her mom had always chipped in to help and they'd conspired together to buy gifts for her dad, a nice wallet, new dress shoes, tickets to a Mets game. But that year when she'd been 15, she'd insisted to her mom she could take care of her dad's Father's Day gift on her own and she had, going to the store and picking out a designer watch. And sure, it wasn't exactly a Patek Philippe but it had still set her back by a couple months' allowance and she'd been so pleased with herself and her dad had been thrilled and worn the watch ever since.

Until now. When had he stopped wearing the watch she'd given him? Weeks, months? She didn't know, she hadn't noticed. It was the middle of winter so her dad had always been wearing long sleeves and a jacket too. It was only today, in the confines of his own apartment and after rinsing the dishes from their lunch, that her dad had rolled up his sleeves, making his watch visible. It was his old watch, she thought, the one he had worn before she'd given him the other, nicer one.

Maybe, at another time, she might have been able to deal with this one surprise with equanimity but coming on top of her dad's, what, essentially declaring his independence from her, she found it wasn't that easy. She hadn't been enough to keep him from drowning in the bottle and now he was able to stand on his own. Which was a good thing, she reminded herself. She had hated having to take such control of her dad's life; it was too much, too soon, for someone who was barely a legal adult herself to have to do but she hadn't had a choice.

She tried for a smile but couldn't force it, the muscles around her mouth trembling a little with the failed effort. "Of course, Dad. I understand," she managed to say, infusing as much happiness into her voice as she could. Which wasn't much to her own ears but she hoped it would pass muster.

Her dad gave her a faint smile and reached out to cover her immobile hand with his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Thank you, Katie. I don't know where I'd be without you." He repeated the sentiment and she managed a twitch of her lips. All indications were that he would still be here without her. He had gotten sober again through his own will and was staying sober now of his own will; she hadn't been around for it, she had only left him alone in the hospital and not seen him until he was done with rehab. He might have been evicted from this apartment if she hadn't stepped in to keep up the rent payments but so what, it was just a physical space and arranging for rent and bills to be paid was the least she could do when she'd basically stopped talking to her dad otherwise.

Why oh why was all this hitting her so hard? It didn't really affect her, shouldn't really make a difference. She was fine on her own. She'd trained herself not to rely on her dad for anything and this didn't change a thing. She'd trained herself not to hope for anything, especially not where her dad was concerned.

So she was just fine and nothing had really changed at all.

So she told herself and clung to that mantra as she managed to force down the rest of her baklava—and she thought she might never like the sweet pastry again after this.

Once she was done, she pasted on a bright smile for her dad. "This was delicious, Dad. Thanks for lunch but I should probably get going. I need to go home and start getting ready to go on shift because I got assigned to work the evening shift today." Well, technically, she'd volunteered for the evening shift today in order to give herself an excuse to leave soon after lunch. Of course, all uniforms were required to work a certain number of evening and weekend shifts but it was made easier when people volunteered to work those shifts and Kate didn't stint in volunteering. A willingness to put in the time and work the bad hours could only help in getting the nod for promotion and it wasn't as if she had much of a personal life to take away from.

Her dad's expression briefly faltered. "Oh, you need to leave already?" The disappointment his question betrayed stung since even with her shift, she could stay a little longer but she didn't know how much longer she could count on her composure. He blinked and managed a faint smile of his own. "Well, of course, if you need to get ready for work."

"Right. Duty calls," she attempted to quip.

"You've always done your duty, Katie," her dad murmured more to himself than to her and she tried not to wince. Duty could be an ugly word, was no substitute for what was done willingly, out of love.

Her dad accompanied her to the door and pulled her into a hug. "Be careful at work, Katie."

She summoned up her most reassuring smile. "Of course, Dad. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Katie?"

She paused. "Yes, Dad?"

"I love you."

 _Oh god._ Her heart stuttered in her chest and she stepped forward to hug her dad again, although she wasn't sure if part of it was to conceal her face from him. He hadn't said the words in… she didn't really remember how long, certainly not since long before he had finished rehab. And just like earlier, when he'd teased her about her stupidity over her biology test, she was reminded that in spite of everything, he was still her dad. Her dad, who, in spite of everything, knew her in a way that no one else did. "I love you too, Dad," she managed to say, the words sounding a little tight, not quite easy, but they were true too.

Her dad gave her a last squeeze and then released her and she stepped back, giving a small awkward laugh. "Okay, now I really need to go."

"Right, of course. See you next weekend?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'll call you," she promised.

And with a last smile, she made her escape—and felt another pang of guilt for thinking of it that way.

She did love her dad and her dad loved her too. But it just… hurt. Hurt knowing that even though he loved her, she still hadn't been enough to keep him from drowning before and she couldn't keep him afloat now. And it hurt, too, remembering the way they had used to be, remembering the faith she'd once had in him.

Kate sucked in a breath of cold air as she stepped outside of her dad's building and strode away from it quickly, not quite breaking into a run in her hurry to get away. Her chest was tight—again—but she flat out refused to cry, could not cry here where people could see her.

The sound of her phone going off startled her and brought her to a stop as she pulled it out to see—oh—the faint beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips, a tiny butterfly of happiness fluttering to life inside her. It was a text from Castle.

Maybe at another time, she would be more worried over reacting so strongly to just a message from him, sight unseen, but for now, she just indulged it. She needed a reason to smile and somehow, as if he sensed it, he sent her a message. Two messages, as her phone buzzed again.

The messages did more than just make her smile.

 _Alexis has decided that Barty the turtle makes a very nice hat. For me._

 _I am less than thrilled. Pity me._

The laugh bubbled up before she'd even realized it at the mental image of Castle with a turtle sitting on his head. She could picture his disgruntled expression—but she also knew that in spite of his grousing, he would keep the turtle on his head for a while to please Alexis and make her laugh.

She sent back a quick response. _Tell Alexis to take pictures of this. Cops need evidence._

His reply came before she'd even finished the short walk to her car. _Believe me, she already has._

 _Tell Alexis I look forward to seeing these pictures._

His response was immediate. _Nope, not telling her. Stop encouraging her to tease me._

What was it about Rick Castle that made the smile bloom across her face so easily, that had this treacherous warmth blossoming inside her?

She paused before starting her car to reply. _I have it on good authority that you're too vain for your own good so you need Alexis to keep you grounded._

She didn't wait for his response before starting her car but she felt better, more in control of herself after the silly exchange with Castle. It didn't fix anything, her relationship with her dad still a sore spot on her heart, but just being given a reason to smile had helped, acted as a band-aid to staunch the bleeding. And for now, that was enough.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Sending thoughts and prayers that anyone on the east coast affected by Hurricane Florence is safe….


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: A (very) long chapter, featuring Castle actually seeing Kate again.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 17_

He missed her.

He could almost find it funny how much he missed her, how often he found his thoughts turning to her, except that what it spelled out about the state of his heart where Kate Beckett was concerned was not really funny at all. More like terrifying.

It was proof of just how often he found himself thinking of her that he'd ended up texting her the way he had lately. Castle honestly had not intended to start texting back and forth with Kate over these couple weeks while she was busy studying for her detectives' exam. It wasn't as if he and Kate had ever really texted; the sum total of the text messages they had exchanged thus far had been brief and only to confirm dinner plans.

And yet when he and Alexis had brought Barty the Turtle home to the loft for the weekend, he'd been reminded of Alexis's little soliloquy regarding Barty when they'd had dinner at Remy's and he hadn't been able to resist texting Kate. She had responded with a laugh and a message to say hello to Alexis (and Barty), that he thought might have melted his dangerously-susceptible heart.

Then, the next day when Alexis had decided that playing with Barty would include putting the turtle on Castle's head (and then giggling uproariously), he had sent Kate another message and her teasing response had made him grin.

He had valiantly resisted peppering Kate with more text messages during the week when he figured she would be busy with work but then later on in the week one night, she had sent him a text. _I passed by a used bookstore and saw some of your early works in the clearance bargain bin. How the mighty are fallen._

It was probably a bad sign that he could picture her so easily as he read the message, picture the smirk curving her lips, the emerald glints sparkling in her deep hazel eyes. (U _gh, great, he was waxing poetic in his thoughts. Get a grip, Rick.)_

He found himself grinning at his phone even as he shot back a quick reply. _I'll have you know I'm a NYTimes bestselling author!_

 _Not as famous as James Patterson_ had been her immediate retort and he'd laughed in spite of himself, a silly thrill wriggling through him at the quickness of her wit, her teasing, the way she kept him on his toes.

Then she had followed up with a message for Alexis. _Tell Alexis I say hi and that I hope she's having a good week at school._

He had duly passed on the message to Alexis, who had lit up and eagerly dictated a response. _Alexis says hi, Kate! And she is having a good week and she wishes you good luck in studying for your test._

 _Thanks, Alexis. (Nice job playing stenographer, Castle.)_

He'd grinned again. Yeah, he had it bad.

He'd sent another random text over the weekend, crowing about his victory over Alexis in a game of Jenga. (What, he missed her and it was as good an excuse as any.)

She hadn't responded until late that night with a sardonic comment that she would alert the presses, followed by a terse _sorry, can't talk. Working this weekend._

The extent of his disappointment had surprised even him. When had he started to enjoy these brief exchanges via text with Kate so much? He couldn't remember ever taking such pleasure in what were, after all, very brief, meaningless bits of banter but maybe that was exactly why he liked it so much. Bantering with Kate was _fun_. Fun in a way he hadn't really experienced in a while, sad as that sounded.

He didn't have a lot of real friends who teased him. Oh, Patterson and Cannell and Connelly were friends and there was always some ribbing at the poker games but they were also competitors, in a real sense, and he didn't see them that often as it was. (Also, when they met, it was mostly to play poker and they were serious about their poker.) And he obviously knew lots of people, had many connections, but he wouldn't really call them friends, not in the basic sense of people he simply enjoyed spending time with, friends he could just laugh with over nothing in particular. He had friends, of sorts, at Black Pawn but it was, as it was with Gina, a work relationship first.

Kate was different.

When had he stopped having real friends? He wasn't sure—or actually, he was. It had coincided pretty much with when he'd hit it big and become famous. The more people recognized his name and increasingly his face too (thank you, Page Six), the harder it had become to have real friends.

Kate was a real friend. Also a woman he was starting to really fall for.

And what made it better was that he knew Alexis already really liked her and she liked Alexis. For once, he didn't need to worry over how any potential girlfriend of his would get along with Alexis. And more importantly, how Alexis would feel about said girlfriend.

The water in the pot started to boil and the timer he had set up for it went off, interrupting his thoughts, and Castle started a little before adding the noodles for the spaghetti he'd decided to make for dinner. That done, he glanced over to check on Alexis, a warm rush of tenderness flooding his chest at the sight of her.

She was seated at the kitchen table working on her math homework and had the most adorable little frown of concentration puckering her forehead. His diligent little A-student. She had, as usual, refused his offer of help (he didn't kid himself that he would be of much use to Alexis's schoolwork once she hit high school, except in English, but for now, at least, he could still help), insisting that she wanted to do it herself. His studious, responsible girl. Not for the first time, he marveled at how two people like himself and Meredith had managed to produce such a responsible little thing since he wouldn't claim to be a paradigm of responsible behavior even now and Meredith didn't really have a responsible bone in her body.

Alexis put down her pencil and looked up at him. "I finished my math homework. Can I read my book now?"

"Of course, pumpkin."

"I'm hungry, Daddy. When is dinner?"

"Dinner will be in about half an hour, Alexis."

She drooped and heaved one of those deep dramatic sighs that always tickled him—and reminded him that for all her seriousness, Alexis was his mother's grand-daughter too. He wasn't sure he'd have known what to do with a totally serious, mature kid so he was thankful that Alexis had her moments of silliness and mischief, aided and abetted by him, of course. "That's too far away."

He suppressed a smile. "I think you'll survive, Alexis."

His phone interrupted him and he checked it and felt a stupid spurt of happiness when he saw that it was another message from Kate.

 _The latest Storm is no longer a NYTimes bestseller. My condolences. But not really._

He grinned. Kate's teasing was really priceless. And he admitted to a totally ridiculous thrill because it meant Kate had taken the time to check the latest NYTimes bestseller list. The latest Storm had only slipped off it in the last day or so—which he knew because, well, of course he did. It was sort of his job to know. But Kate? She would have had to deliberately check the list and look for his name (or the lack of it)—and she had, and then made fun of him. Really, he didn't know why that pleased him but somehow it did. It was just… surprising and, well, funny for lack of a better word. (Some writer he was proving to be right now.) She really did keep him on his toes.

 _You checked the bestseller list for my name? That's so thoughtful,_ was his quip in response.

 _How does Alexis put up with you?_

He laughed out loud this time.

Which unsurprisingly attracted Alexis's attention. "Daddy, what's so funny?" She paused and before he could even answer, added, "Oh, did you get another text message from Kate?"

He blinked and gaped at her. His daughter was telepathic now? That was… seriously terrifying. Awesome but terrifying. "What made you guess that?"

She looked as condescending as only a 9-year-old could look. "Daddy, you were grinning goofily at your phone. You grinned like that the last time you got a text message from Kate too."

Oh, he had? Huh. He supposed he really hadn't been subtle, had he? And it wasn't like he was in the habit of trying to hide things from Alexis. Also, his daughter was brilliant. "Excellent deduction, Sherlock."

Alexis might not be quite old enough yet to read the Sherlock Holmes stories but he had, of course, made a point of introducing her to the character who was probably the foremost detective in all fiction. (Helped by that awesome Disney classic, the _Great Mouse Detective_.)

His daughter preened. "I was right?"

"Yeah, you were right, smarty pants."

"Ooh, say hi to Kate for me and I hope her studying is going well!"

"I will, pumpkin."

First, though, he proceeded to test the noodles, using the tried and true method of flinging one against the wall—what, it was fun!—and then drained the water from the noodles.

Then he dutifully sent off Alexis's requested message to Kate, who responded promptly, _Hi, Alexis, and thanks, it is. Take care!_

He put his phone away then and busied himself getting the rest of dinner ready as he directed Alexis to set the table.

So it wasn't until a few minutes later when they were starting dinner that he passed on Kate's message to Alexis.

Alexis smiled and then sobered. "Daddy?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"You like Kate, right?"

"Yes, I like Kate," he answered carefully. Warning bells were going off in his head.

"So is Kate going to be your girlfriend now?"

Oh. Yeah, this was what he'd been afraid of. He couldn't allow Alexis to get her hopes up about him and Kate, set her heart on Kate being around a lot more. He hated, absolutely hated, having to deflate Alexis's hopes but after Meredith, he needed to protect Alexis's fragile heart. This was why he never let any woman meet Alexis until he had a better sense of where the relationship was going.

For the first time, he thought maybe he shouldn't have let Alexis see so much of Kate—but then again, he reminded himself, what else could he really have done? Prevent Alexis from ever meeting any nubile young woman just in case? (Not that it had ever come up before but still.) He'd had a girlfriend when he met Kate and introduced Kate to Alexis and had no reason to think or expect that he would really see Kate again, let alone that anything more would really come of it. And then, well, Alexis had taken to Kate and he hadn't had any reason to try to keep any distance between Kate and Alexis. Alexis was generally friendly and outgoing, now that she'd outgrown her shy phase, so he hadn't thought much of it but it occurred to him now just how easily Alexis had welcomed Kate as her newest friend. Which spoke volumes for how Kate treated Alexis. He'd seen occasional hints of uncertainty, hesitation, in Kate, enough to guess that Kate didn't have much experience with, or knowledge of, kids but for all that, she was good with Alexis. And he entirely approved of Kate as a friend for Alexis, not least because he was glad that in Kate, Alexis had acquired not just a friend but a role model of a smart, driven, diligent working woman. (Gina had been one too but Alexis hadn't taken to Gina nearly as much.)

But now, Alexis's affection for Kate posed a potential problem. He might want a relationship with Kate—he definitely did—but he still had no guarantee that Kate would feel the same way, want the same thing. He was experienced enough to recognize that she was attracted to him. The physical chemistry he sensed between them sizzled as brightly as a flash of lightning. But he was also experienced enough, man of the world enough, to know that that wasn't enough, not for an actual relationship. Lightning could be blindingly bright but it was also fleeting. As he had already learned, to his cost. Sophia Turner had been a prime example of that, as was Meredith, for that matter. He couldn't imagine equating Kate with either Sophia or Meredith, not ever, but the fact remained that he didn't know what he and Kate could be, would be.

He knew what he wanted but as he'd also learned, what he wanted wouldn't necessarily happen. Certainly not in his personal life.

He leaned forward and met Alexis's eyes directly. "Now, Alexis, I can't answer that because I don't know what will happen."

Alexis shot him a decidedly cheeky smirk. "I thought you knew everything, Daddy."

He laughed. Oh, she was good at keeping him on his toes too. "It is with great reluctance that I admit that even I can't predict the future," he confessed with mock woe.

Alexis patted him on the head condescendingly. "That's okay, Daddy. I still think you're smart."

"Thank—" he began only for her to interrupt with gleeful mischief, "Just not as smart as me!"

He laughed again. She'd gotten him there. "Yeah, Little Miss Modesty?" he teased.

"Uh huh," she nodded, giving him an impish grin. "Grams told me so."

Damn it, Mother. Admittedly, she wasn't wrong; he did actually believe that Alexis was smarter than he was (was ridiculously proud of her for it) but that wasn't the point.

"You and Grams are definitely not allowed to talk about me anymore," he pretended to grumble.

Alexis only giggled. Yeah, his stern father routine was not working.

Alexis sobered. "But Daddy, if you like Kate and Kate likes you and I think she does, why won't she be your girlfriend?"

Ah, persistence, thy name was Alexis. Or something like that. "Kate and I are friends, Alexis, and just because we like each other as friends doesn't mean she'll want to be my girlfriend. And besides," he added, more to bring this entirely too awkward conversation to a close than anything else, "we don't know if Kate already has a boyfriend or not." That was technically true. Alexis didn't know and he didn't actually _know_ either; he was relatively sure Kate didn't have a boyfriend but it was still only a guess. The first night he and Kate had met, on her birthday, she had only mentioned a friend and her parents as people she might celebrate with. The friend, he guessed now, was Lanie but aside from Lanie and some of the other cops she worked with, Kate never mentioned other friends, let alone a significant other. Admittedly, Kate was not inclined to chatter about her personal life; she was, come to think of it, one of the most reticent people he had ever met—but that only made him want to know her more. She was a mystery and one he already felt would be worth spending a very long time trying to solve.

"Well, we would know if Kate has a boyfriend if you'd let her answer my question last time we had dinner," Alexis pointed out.

Damn, his 9-year-old should really not be able to get the better of him like this. "Now, Alexis, I told you that that's a personal question and if you're going to ask something like that, you should ask first."

"I'll ask Kate next time we see her," Alexis volunteered blithely, unfazed by his words of caution.

He supposed he would simply have to trust in Alexis's general good sense—and of course, he did. Young as she was, he doubted Alexis would really go too far in prying. And then it wasn't as if Kate had to answer; if she was uncomfortable, he trusted her to avoid answering in a way that wouldn't hurt Alexis's feelings.

"If you want to," he agreed, "but just remember Kate is our friend and sometimes that's even better." He couldn't quite believe that just being friends with Kate would actually be better than a real relationship with her but friendship did have the benefit of being safer. He didn't want to lose having Kate in his life—or having Kate in Alexis's life.

"Okay," Alexis nodded easily. "But Daddy?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"For the record, if you wanted it, I wouldn't mind if Kate becomes your girlfriend."

She sounded so solemn. He suppressed a smile. "Are you giving me your permission, Alexis?"

"Why do I need to give you permission? You can do whatever you want, Daddy."

He laughed and gently tugged on a lock of her hair. "Thank you, sweetie. Now come on and eat, the spaghetti is getting cold."

They both started eating while his thoughts returned—or stayed, really, since they'd never really left—to Kate. Yes, he wanted to be with Kate. And while Alexis's approval, not to say permission, wasn't exactly a surprise, it was still nice to know. Now it was up to Kate, how she felt, if she wanted this too. He hoped—he couldn't help but find her text messages encouraging, even if none of them were even remotely romantic. But Kate was busy, he knew that, but she still found time to text him. That had to mean something, didn't it? He hadn't felt this uncertain over a woman in more than 15 years. He couldn't say he liked the feeling but, well, Kate was worth it. He was simply out of practice at trying to impress a woman who didn't care about his money or his fame or his connections—but then again, with Kate, he hadn't been trying to impress her. He had simply been himself. Maybe that was why he was so sure that a relationship with Kate would work—because with her, if she liked him, he would know it would be for himself and he wouldn't need to try to pretend to be anything else.

* * *

The next week passed quickly and uneventfully—and without contact from Kate. But since she was supposed to be taking her detectives' exam at the end of it, he assumed she was busy studying when she wasn't at work and he heroically resisted the urge to text her.

He spent Valentine's Day with his favorite redhead so he couldn't complain, spent the day before it baking heart-shaped sugar cookies with Alexis for her to take into class and distribute along with little kid Valentines graced with cartoon characters. And on Valentine's Day itself, he woke up earlier than usual in order to make his trademark strawberry heart pancakes for breakfast and sent Alexis off to school with peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches that he'd cut into heart shapes tucked into her lunch box. (What, he liked celebrating holidays.)

He held out from texting Kate all week until the 20th, the day before she was supposed to take the exam, when he sent her a text message wishing her good luck on the exam from both him and Alexis. She sent a quick response of thanks and he smiled, ridiculously pleased.

The next day, the day of the actual detectives' exam, he found himself thinking of Kate even more consistently than he usually had been, wondering how she was doing, when she was actually going to take the exam. He had tried to find out what he could about the detectives' exam, partly for her sake and partly out of his own curiosity, but the information that was publicly available was limited and non-specific. He hadn't dared ask Roy Montgomery for more specifics because of Montgomery being Kate's superior. (Also, he was mildly nervous that Montgomery might mention his asking to Kate and he doubted she would appreciate that.)

After dinner, Alexis curled up on the couch with her latest book and he retrieved his laptop from his office and settled at the dining table to try to get some writing done. (Given Alexis's age and general responsibility, he probably could have stayed in his office to write, especially thanks to the open bookshelf-walls but even now, he didn't feel entirely at ease with Alexis out of his line of sight. So he had adapted to writing in the same room as his daughter, which admittedly, was no great feat.)

Having the "For Kate" written across the top of his initial draft for the new book brought Kate back to mind and he gave in to impulse and sent her another text message, this time hoping that her detectives' exam had gone well.

It was barely 10 minutes later, long before he had managed to establish any sort of writing rhythm, that his phone rang, essentially ending his concentration, and then his silly heart leaped as he saw that it was Kate.

"Kate, hi."

"Hey, Castle," her familiar—and missed—voice came over the line and he felt a stupid smile curve his lips, a little flare of warmth in his chest. "I just finished the detectives' exam and saw your message."

"Oh, how did it go? Did you ace it?"

She huffed a little. "I don't even know right now. I haven't had a chance to think about it."

"Ooh, are you talking to Kate? How is she? I want to talk to her too!" Alexis, who had appeared deaf to the world in her absorption in her book, bounced up and towards him.

"Well, I'm sure you did great," he offered. "Now Officer, I have a little birdy here who's very eager to talk to you too."

He heard her smile in her voice, could picture the way it lit up her face and caught out the green sparks in her eyes. "Oh, is Alexis there? Hand the phone over and let me talk to the grown-up of the household."

"Hey! I take offense at that," he pretended to huff.

Her laugh rang out over the line, warm and golden ( _oh get a grip, Rick_ ). "You'll get over it, Castle. Now let me talk to Alexis."

"Fine fine," he agreed in mock reluctance and passed his phone to Alexis.

"Hi, Kate!" Alexis greeted eagerly. "How did your test go? Was it hard? What sorts of things did it ask?"

Castle sat back in his seat, his eyes resting on his daughter's shining face as she listened to whatever Kate was saying. Her answer to Alexis's questions about the test was clearly more involved than her answer to him and he couldn't help but appreciate her willingness to satisfy his kid's curiosity.

"Did it take a long time, Kate?" Alexis asked and then listened before piping up, "I'm sure you did great because you're smart and you studied hard."

Another pause in which he guessed that Kate had asked Alexis about school because Alexis launched into much the same recital of what had gone on in school today that she had given him when he had picked her up that afternoon. She eventually wound down and then asked, shifting into seriousness, "Oh, Kate, can I ask you something?"

Oh wait, he had a sudden suspicion… That was proven right as the next words out of Alexis's mouth were, "Do you have a boyfriend, Kate?"

He briefly covered his eyes with his hand. Trust Alexis to remember a conversation from a week ago and still ask. She was single-minded like that.

He lowered his hand to see Alexis shoot him a bright-eyed look and whisper, "she said no," although she did, he noted thankfully, have the sense to cover the mouthpiece with her hand as she did so.

He couldn't help a small smile even as he shook his head a little at Alexis.

"I was just wondering," Alexis answered something Kate must have asked blithely before going on, "When can we see you again, Kate? Can you come over this weekend?" She paused, her face falling a little at what he assumed was Kate's answer in the negative and then asked, "What about next week?"

Alexis brightened up and then confirmed, "Okay, that sounds great! See you then! I'll let you talk to Daddy now." She handed his phone back to him with the blithe announcement, "Kate says she should be able to come over for dinner next Thursday."

He tugged gently on a lock of Alexis's hair before he accepted the phone, lifting it to his ear to hear the sound of Kate's quiet laughter, probably because she'd overheard Alexis's words. "Hello again. So you're coming over on Thursday?"

"Alexis is very persuasive," Kate quipped and he could hear her smile in her voice.

"Yeah, she is hard to resist," he agreed, ruffling his daughter's hair. "But in this case, I'd say it's for a good cause. We can't have one of New York's Finest going hungry."

"Thank you, I think," Kate responded dryly. "I am capable of feeding myself, you know."

"But eating here is more fun," he countered immediately.

"True," she conceded with a soft laugh. "So I guess I'll see you on Thursday, assuming a body doesn't drop."

"That is still so _cool_ ," he blurted out unthinkingly.

"Nice, that you find homicide to be so exciting," she said dryly. "Bye, Castle."

"I'm a mystery writer," he justified. "See you next week, Beckett."

He ended the phone call to see his daughter giving him a rather smug, knowing look that gave him terrifying premonitions for her teenage years. "What?"

She put on an air of affected innocence as she returned to her book. "Nothing, Daddy."

He narrowed his eyes at her but decided not to pursue it. He suspected he knew anyway, that she was pleased that he liked Kate so much. Which was nice, if also weird, that his little daughter was apparently so supportive of his prospective love life—and he was just going to cut that line of thought off right there before it broke his brain.

* * *

Thankfully—and he chose not to spend too much time dwelling on just how thankful he felt—a case didn't come up so Kate did not need to call to reschedule their dinner on Thursday. Much to Alexis's delight, who, unlike him, did not even try to hide her happiness at seeing Kate again, running to open the front door at Kate's knock and flinging herself at Kate.

He saw the faint flicker of surprise and something like uncertainty across Kate's face but she laughed a little and returned Alexis's embrace with a warmth that had his silly, susceptible heart swooning in his chest. "Hi, Alexis, it's good to see you too." She turned her (gorgeous) smile to him. "Hey, Castle."

"Hey, Beckett." (He really liked the way she called him 'Castle.' Entirely stupid of him but he did. No one else called him Castle so it seemed like it was just her thing, something special to them.)

Dinner passed easily, as usual, mostly taken up with Alexis's bright prattle as she told Kate basically everything that had happened in the last few weeks, about Barty the Turtle's weekend stay at the loft (which included the pictures of Barty sitting on his head, much to his exaggerated grumbling—but how could he possibly carry through on his threats to burn the pictures as long as they made his daughter giggle the way they did?) Alexis also enthusiastically recounted the visit he and Alexis had made to the Aquarium so they could see some other turtles (and sharks and penguins and otters, who were so cute!), about the fact that her class was learning about Africa in school (memorizing the countries' names and their capitals, learning about the Sahara and the Nile and the animals native to Africa).

Kate listened with her usual attention and smiled and laughed at appropriate times, all quite as usual, but Castle couldn't quite help the lingering sense that something was a little… off… about her. As if she was a little distracted, tired. He wondered what her schedule had been like this week. He might be being paranoid, imagining things, as one glance at Alexis was enough to tell him that his daughter didn't appear to have picked up on anything different about Kate at all, but he couldn't quite get rid of the faint pricking of his instincts.

If it had been anyone else, he might have wondered if it was discomfort with Alexis but this was Kate and he trusted her with Alexis (he really did, to an extent that surprised even him since he wasn't usually so quick to trust anyone with Alexis) and he knew that Kate liked Alexis. That much was already clear. This was, after all, the woman who had called Alexis a beacon of light. So no, this wasn't about Alexis.

Maybe it was Kate's dad? He quickly reviewed what little Kate had told him about her dad, that he had finished rehab and she saw him every week. Oh god, he hoped Kate's dad hadn't relapsed.

He shot Kate another searching look and this time her eyes met his and he wasn't sure what she saw in his expression but she gave him a small, barely-there curve of her lips as if in reassurance and he was forced to be content with that. He couldn't pry as long as Alexis was around.

And he didn't. But fortunately, soon after they finished dinner and dessert, Alexis excused herself to go upstairs so she could finish her book before bed.

He watched Alexis scamper up the stairs as he usually did and turned back to Kate to see that something was subtly, indefinably different about her and it took him a second before he realized what it was. She was still smiling but now her smile was absent, as if she'd forgotten to take it off. Her bright, friendly social shield had lowered, now that Alexis was gone, and with it, her shoulders were a little lower. She wasn't drooping, exactly—Kate Beckett had too good a posture for that, too much steel in her spine―but she looked more… tired. She had maintained a good facade as long as Alexis was around-protecting his daughter, he thought—but now that she was gone, she wasn't putting in as much effort anymore. And it occurred to him that he felt strangely… pleased—if that was the word—by it, that Kate Beckett didn't feel the need to keep up a pretense around him.

"Is something wrong?" he finally blurted out when he couldn't hold in his concern, and yes, his curiosity, any longer.

She immediately threw him a brighter smile. "What makes you think something is wrong?" she parried.

"Spidey senses," he quipped, going for humor as he belatedly recognized that Kate hadn't consciously lowered her social shield at all. When had he started to become so attuned to her expression?

A sputter of laughter escaped her. "Spidey senses, really, Castle? That's what you're going with?"

"The more boring explanation is that you look tired." Tired and also preoccupied. There was something new lurking in the shadows of her eyes, something that wasn't her grief at her mom. Something else that was haunting her. He was starting to sound melodramatic but it was true. And he didn't like to see it.

"Wow, such flattery," she drawled but there was enough of a quirk at the corners of her lips that he didn't fear that he'd offended her. And Kate hadn't shown any signs of vanity or a quickness to take offense.

"Do you want flattery because I could flatter you," he offered facetiously. "'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate,'" he warbled, giving her a look of ridiculous pining. If he were really going to try to flatter her, he wouldn't start with those lines. Kate might be lovely but a summer's day was not the first thing that came to mind in thinking about her. She was too… intense, too strong.

He was rewarded by her peal of laughter and noted that her expression, her entire aspect, was brighter, as if the weight of whatever it was bothering her was lighter now. His heart lifted on a ridiculous thrill of triumph at making her laugh. He would do a lot to make Kate Beckett smile. She should smile and laugh more often.

"If that's your idea of flattery, I think I'll pass," she quipped.

"Okay, no flattery, but seriously, what's bothering you? You can tell me. Is it work? Because you know I like mysteries. And Alexis says I'm a good listener."

A quick smile flickered across her face. "Oh, well, if Alexis says so." She paused and then went on, "I just had a bad day at work, that's all."

It wasn't much but his heart leaped a little anyway at the realization that Kate Beckett was actually talking to him. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't one to talk about her troubles easily but she was now, even if it wasn't strictly personal, was about her work. She trusted him that much at least. "Why was it a bad day? What happened? Did you get your detectives' exam results back?"

"You're not going to give up on the questions, are you?"

There was just a hint of humor and resignation in her voice, rather than outright annoyance, so it allowed him to make answer lightly. "Nope, I'm persistent."

She made a small face. "No, it wasn't the exam results. It was just this latest case we've been working on yesterday and today and then before I left, Captain Montgomery said something that hinted that if we don't find anything more, we might just need to put it aside because other cases keep coming up and we don't have the resources to keep looking into cases with no real leads."

Yes, that would haunt her because of what happened to her mom.

"And if that wasn't bad enough, I keep having this nagging feeling that I'm missing something important but I can't figure out what it is and I can't even be sure if it's real or only because I hate leaving a case unsolved."

"I don't know about that. You don't strike me as the sort of person to get caught up in wishful thinking," he offered honestly.

"No, I'm not," she agreed, "but I still don't know what I'm missing and unless the detectives and I can come up with something more concrete, Montgomery's going to pull us off the case and Carl Mattheson is going to be left a grieving widower with no answers."

The name made him straighten up. "Carl Mattheson? You're working on the Alicia Mattheson case?"

"Yes, why? Oh, do you know them?"

"We're not friends, if that's what you're worried about. We've been introduced and have met in passing a couple times. But I was just reading about Alicia Mattheson in the papers today. It looked like a mugging gone wrong, the papers said."

"Yeah. She was found strangled in an alley with no purse and no jewelry. It took us a long time just to figure out her ID because we never found her purse."

"Strangled. Were there ligature marks?"

"Yes," she answered slowly and then bolted upright, a spark suddenly lighting in her eyes. Oh, she'd had an idea about the case. He could see it and it sent a jolt of reflecting energy up his spine. "I think that's it. Most muggings are at knife or gunpoint, not through strangulation, and when it is, it's usually the victim's own scarf or tie or something, a crime of opportunity and using whatever tools were at hand. This one wasn't like that. Alicia wasn't wearing a scarf so it seems the weapon was planned and that's not consistent with a mugging." This must be what she was like at work, he thought, this intensity, this sharp intelligence. It was mesmerizing, fascinating. (And so hot. But he pushed that thought aside.) "I'm going to have to see if Perlmutter can be more definite about what caused the marks."

"Perlmutter?" he asked, distracted.

"Oh, he's the ME on this case." She made a small face. "He hates people so he's not going to be pleasant about it but if it'll get us more answers, I'll push him to speculate a little."

God, she was amazing. And something about her drive, her determination, was contagious. Had his fingers almost itching to write. If he could convey that power over the page, give Derrick Storm even a fraction of her intensity, her push to get the answers… He wanted to write about it, wanted to write about _her_.

And he wanted to help. "Have you looked into Carl Mattheson?"

"Not beyond the preliminary background. It seemed like a random mugging and there was nothing to tie him to the murder. He seemed devastated and no one we've talked to said they knew of any problems between them." Her gaze sharpened. "Why? Do you know something about him?"

He made a face. "I wouldn't bet that he's as devastated as he seems. I don't know him well, like I said, but I did see them at a couple parties and at one of them, well," he hesitated and then realized he was being stupid to think Kate Beckett needed any protection from him from the sleazier side of life. She had almost certainly seen and heard worse than he had. "I saw him grope some of the other guests." He left unsaid that he'd not-quite-accidentally bumped into Carl Mattheson and spilled some of his drink on the man's bespoke suit—he didn't expect it to make any difference but it had annoyed the man, which seemed only just deserts after the way he'd been annoying women. And aside from that, his initial impression of Carl Mattheson when they'd been introduced had not been positive.

Kate didn't bat an eye. "Groping other women is a long way away from murdering his wife, Castle."

"I know but it's not exactly the behavior of a loving husband who really would be devastated to lose his wife. Also, for what it's worth, Alicia Mattheson was the one with the money in the family so I imagine he'll get a lot of money with her dying." Not that he actually had a concrete reason to believe that Carl Mattheson had killed his wife but still, given the statistics, looking deeper into a man who wouldn't exactly win any Husband of the Year awards couldn't be that bad of an idea.

"Carl works as some Wall Street bigshot; he's not exactly a pauper."

"No, but Carl works for his money. He measures his money in hundreds of thousands, which I'm not saying is not a lot, but Alicia's family measures theirs in hundreds of millions." He twisted his lips a little. "I was in school with her older brother for a year, although we weren't friends. Believe me, there's a difference."

"Hmm." Kate pursed her lips in thought and he was gripped by the sudden (or not so sudden) urge to kiss her. But then she blinked and straightened up and the moment—if it had been a moment-was over. "You have a point." She flashed him a quick smile that was warm enough it almost made up for not kissing her. Almost. "Thanks, Castle. I think talking about it helped. I'll start looking into things first thing tomorrow and hopefully come up with enough that Montgomery will allow us to keep working on the case."

"Anytime. I think it's so cool to get to talk about an actual real-life homicide case."

"Yeah, well, somehow I doubt Alicia Mattheson finds it quite as cool so just keep that in mind," she said dryly.

"Duly noted," he conceded, trying (and mostly failing) to appear penitent and properly sober.

She rolled her eyes but there was a faint quirk tugging at her lips as she stood up. "Anyway, like you so politely pointed out, I am tired so I think I'll head home. Wish Alexis a good night for me."

"Of course," he agreed, accompanying her to his office so he could retrieve her gun (which was still awesome) and then to the door.

"Thanks again for dinner and for the suggestions about the case."

"Anytime. Let us know when you're free again for dinner."

"Will do. Good night, Castle."

"Until next time, Beckett." And then she left after a last smile that he swore went straight to his head like fine champagne and the image of her smile lingered in his mind as he went upstairs to tuck Alexis into bed.

The next day, Castle received a text message from Beckett saying simply, _You were right about Carl Mattheson. Thanks._ And the day after that, he read in the papers about Carl Mattheson's arrest for the murder of his wife—and felt a thrill at the knowledge that he had helped solve an actual murder case. He wanted to write about that too, convey the high that came from solving a case, from knowing that justice was going to be done. He would try to infuse Derrick Storm with some of it but more and more, he was sure that Derrick wasn't the character he wanted to write about anymore. He just needed to finish up this last book for Storm and then he would move on, write what he really wanted to write. Write about Kate.

(Of course, that also meant he needed to convince one of the most reticent people he had ever met to let him write about her but he would shelve that discussion for later.)

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially guest reviewers whom I can't thank directly.


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: This chapter is sort of the first of a pair with the next one but I'm posting this now to keep to the weekly schedule.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 18_

"Beckett!"

Kate snapped to attention as Montgomery called her name. "Yes, sir."

"In my office," he clipped and she inwardly frowned, a little twinge of nervousness crawling through her. To her knowledge, she hadn't done anything but on the other hand, she'd been running nonstop for the last week since the Alicia Mattheson case had been closed so she supposed something could have slipped past her. They'd had three other cases drop pretty much in succession and as a uniform, she'd basically been pulled from one scene to the next, canvassing and talking to witnesses. She hadn't had a proper night's sleep in a week, falling into bed at close to 1 a.m. every night and returning to the precinct by 7 a.m. the next morning. She'd been surviving mostly by drinking the nearly-undrinkable sludge that served as coffee from the machine in the break room. It was the life of a uniform cop and she was mostly used to it by now but it couldn't be denied that she was tired and was, for once, very glad to know that she wasn't on shift over the coming weekend.

But now, if Captain Montgomery was summoning her into his office at this hour on a Friday afternoon, she had the sudden sense that her weekend off might be in jeopardy.

But she hoped that none of this showed as she gave herself a quick once-over and straightened the cuffs on her uniform sleeves before walking into Montgomery's office, aware of the gazes of Detectives Hassan and Scanlon following her as she went. They might know something she didn't.

"Sir," she greeted Montgomery.

He closed his office door behind her but didn't greet her otherwise, only turned towards his desk and said, "I have Officer Beckett here, sir."

She swiveled to focus on the phone on his desk as a voice emerged with that odd combination of sounding surprisingly loud and yet distant too, as happened when someone was on speaker. "Officer Beckett, this is David Waltner."

Oh crap. David Waltner was the Chief of Detectives. If it were possible, Kate's back stiffened even further so it was so straight a poker could have been strapped to it. "Good afternoon, sir," she greeted stiltedly.

Montgomery resumed his seat and she really wished she dared give her Captain a look for not giving her any warning.

But Chief Waltner was already going on, asking without preamble, "Officer, do you know what the average score was on the last detectives' exam?"

"No, sir." Oh, the detectives' exam. It had been two weeks since she'd taken it so she supposed it was time to hear about the results but she hadn't had time to dwell on it, thanks to the non-stop case work.

"The average score was a 67." Out of 100. A passing score was 80 or higher.

"I see," she answered for lack of anything better to say. So she hadn't passed? Surely the Chief of Detectives didn't personally announce the results to every officer?

There was another pause and she couldn't decide if Chief Waltner was deliberately trying to ramp up the tension or not—and looking to Captain Montgomery was no help because he had his most impenetrable expression on. She wasn't normally a fidgeter but she was starting to feel almost itchy with nerves.

"You scored a 95."

95! She'd passed! The sudden release of tension was almost enough to have her sagging but she steeled her spine and her knees and sternly controlled the smile of elation that wanted to break free. She was still in her Captain's office; she couldn't be grinning like a loon.

"It was the top score of anyone who took the exam and qualifies as exceptional by any measure. It certainly got my attention, I can tell you." She heard a smile in Chief Waltner's voice as his tone eased into something approaching joviality. "So of course I had to look up your record, Officer, and then I decided to call up Captain Montgomery to get his personal opinion. And he said that you're the most promising officer he has." Captain Montgomery had said that? She glanced at her Captain, who was still exhibiting all the emotion of one of the Easter Island statues, but had to return her focus to the phone because Chief Waltner was continuing, his tone becoming businesslike again. "He also said that you have not yet submitted your detective application."

"No, sir," she agreed. "I thought I should wait until the results from the detectives' exam were released."

"Well, the results are out now so I think it's time to submit your application. You can speak with Captain Montgomery about the details but I look forward to personally approving your application once I receive it. Congratulations, Officer, and good work."

"Thank you, sir." Her heart was rabbiting around in her chest, her thoughts whirling, but she managed to sound reasonably professional. He wanted her to submit the application now? He was going to personally approve it? She was going to be a detective—and months earlier than she'd even expected.

"Not at all. We need more promising young officers like you in the ranks so it's good for the Department too. Just keep up the good work, Officer, and I'm sure we'll be speaking again soon."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Captain, I'm sure we'll be in touch soon."

Now, Montgomery joined the conversation. "Yes, Chief. Have a good day, sir."

"You too, Captain."

With that, there was a click as Chief Waltner ended the call and Montgomery turned his attention to Kate, his expression easing a little, although it wasn't quite a smile. "Well, Beckett."

"Sir."

Now Montgomery did smile. "At ease, Beckett. Nice job on the detectives' exam. It's not every day that I receive a personal call from the Chief of Detectives to let me know the results from it but I will say that I'm not at all surprised that the call was about you."

Kate relaxed enough to smile. "Thank you, sir."

Montgomery straightened up. "Now, Beckett, I assume you already have a copy of the detective application."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Well, turn that in and then you can head out for the day. I know you've been running nonstop all week so you're due for a little break so take the rest of the day and the weekend and we'll see you back on Monday morning."

"Thank you, sir." It would mean getting to leave about two hours before the end of her shift so it was something.

"And as for your application, I know Detective Hassan is ready to sign off on it and as Chief Waltner said, he's going to keep an eye out for it so I'd say your application should be approved early next week. Now I see no reason for you to keep spinning your wheels as an officer rather than putting you to work as a detective right away next week and I've talked about it with Detectives Hassan and Scanlon and we've worked out a plan."

Kate straightened up, sobering. "I'm listening, sir."

"I don't know if you've heard but Detective Scanlon is in line for a promotion to be made a lieutenant."

"I have heard something about that," she confirmed. They had been mostly rumors so she hadn't put much credence into the reports. As much as she tried to stay apart from the precinct gossip rumor mill, the ones about Scanlon had necessarily caught her attention.

"Good. Well, Scanlon is going to be made a lieutenant at the end of the month and he'll be transferring to the 25th from then on, which leaves an opening here for a detective, and that will be where you come in. You'll be made an official detective next week, as I said, so you can start getting into interviews and interrogations as back-up for Detectives Hassan and Scanlon, and then once the month is over and Scanlon transfers, you'll step in and work beside Detective Hassan." He quirked an eyebrow. "How does that sound, Beckett?"

She smiled faintly. "That sounds good to me, sir. I appreciate it." She really appreciated that he was taking the time to explain, even briefly, what her role would be going forward, as she took her first steps as a detective. That was one difference already from being a uniform; uniforms were generally not given explanations of any kind but were expected to meekly take orders, go where the detectives pointed, and if uniforms asked anything, it was to ask 'how high' when told to jump. Which wasn't something she was temperamentally inclined to do. She knew she'd been luckier than most in having Montgomery as her captain but even so, he wasn't given to explaining himself to uniformed officers.

"Good, then." Montgomery stood up and held out his hand, which Kate shook as she also stood. "Kate." She lifted her chin a little at this rare use of her first name. "I meant it when I told Chief Waltner that you're the most promising officer I have."

"That means a lot to me, Captain."

"You do me proud." He paused and then added, "Detective Beckett."

 _Detective Beckett._ The words, the title, rang in her mind. It had been her goal for, oh, years now, pretty much the day she'd started at the Academy. And now it was within her reach, all but hers.

She smiled, couldn't help it. "Thank you, sir. For everything." She placed a faint emphasis on the last word because she was thankful for more than his praise. He'd turned a blind eye to her being in archives looking into her mom's case, even though he'd have been within his rights to bench her or write up an official reprimand or worse since a rookie like she had been had no right to be in archives at all. But more than that, Captain Montgomery was the one who had really taught her how to work a homicide. As much as she'd learned from Detectives Hassan and Scanlon as her immediate superiors, it was Montgomery more than anyone else who had shown her how to think and work like a detective. Partly through his example but also from the somewhat indirect influence he'd had through the way he oversaw ongoing investigations. She couldn't count the number of times he had made some comment or asked some question, seemingly in passing, that had made her shift her thinking about some evidence or pointed her in the direction of finding other evidence, and all of it had trained her in the ways of building a case.

He relaxed a little. "All right, Beckett, go get me your detective application and then get out of here."

She followed orders. Of course she did. It took her barely two minutes to quickly review the detective application (mostly filled out already—maybe she had been more impatient than she'd wanted to admit) and sign her name and then she turned it in to Montgomery and left the precinct with only brief words of farewell to Detectives Hassan and Scanlon. Knowing the way the bullpen gossiped, she was well aware that word of her impending promotion would be on everyone's lips within the hour and she wanted to be out of the way when it got started. She expected there would be some raised eyebrows and possibly some muttering—about teacher's pets and favoritism—at her quick promotion and she didn't care to be around for it. She was thankful to know that Detectives Hassan and Scanlon, to say nothing of Captain Montgomery, would be quick to nip any such grumbling in the bud, and she was relatively sure that in the end, her record would speak for itself. The hours she'd put in, the cases she'd worked—assuming she kept it up and didn't fall flat on her face in the first few weeks of being a detective, she should be able to silence any skeptics.

And for now, she was leaving work with more than an hour to spare before her shift ended and for once, she had news to celebrate.

She should call her dad.

And just the thought was enough to puncture her elation and she made a snap decision. No, she wouldn't call him now. Not yet. She would tell him in person when they met up for their usual dinner this weekend. That would be soon enough.

For now, for this one day, she just wanted to celebrate passing the detectives' exam and becoming a full-fledged detective. Celebrate without any tension or fears or other unwanted emotions lurking in the wings. Was that so wrong? Surely not. Surely she could allow herself one day of happiness, unalloyed by any of her lingering issues with her dad, her dad's ambivalence about her job.

She just wanted an uncomplicated celebration with—a friend. Lanie, she would go see Lanie. Lanie, who was after all her best friend.

Kate headed to the ME's office but when she reached the morgue, she saw through the window that Lanie was in full mask and gloves and just preparing to make the initial Y-incision to start an autopsy. Which, Kate knew, meant that Lanie would be busy for the next couple hours.

Ah well. Kate accepted this philosophically and turned on her heel to leave the building. (Philosophically, ha, a voice in her mind commented sarcastically. She ignored it.) But she couldn't help the unbidden, treacherous flare of gladness in her chest at the thought that now she had no choice. It was a neat excuse to see… the person who had first leaped to her mind to tell about passing the detectives' exam. She would get to see Castle. And Alexis, of course.

Fate–or just chance or something—stepping in so the friend who would normally be the first one she talked to about work was busy, leaving her with only one option. That was really all it was. It didn't have to mean anything that she'd immediately thought first of Castle when she'd wanted someone to tell about passing the detectives' exam.

She checked her watch. And conveniently, she knew exactly where Castle would be at this time, courtesy of the email list-serve she was on from his website—which she was never, ever going to admit to being aware of, let alone actually being a member of it.

She went straight back to her apartment to change out of her uniform. No need to cause a commotion by showing up at a book signing in her uniform. Paparazzi and the fans would no doubt be agog at the idea of Richard Castle, Master of the Macabre, being arrested by the cops. (Since his ignominious episode with the police horse had been kept neatly hushed up, as she had reason to know.) Castle, knowing him, would probably get a thrill out of it but no need to attract that kind of attention. She had another idea in mind and, after changing, grabbed up her copy of _Gathering Storm_ before she left her apartment. She might as well bring one of his books, even if she wasn't really planning to get it signed.

As she'd expected, there was quite a line at the Barnes & Noble when she arrived—mostly but not entirely female—and Kate joined the back of it with a little inward flare of amusement. Amazing how different this was than the last time she'd gone to one of his book signings more than two years ago. Then, she had just been another face in the crowd, another anonymous fan. Now, well, now he knew her. She knew him, knew his daughter. She felt another wave of unreality. If anyone had told her even one year ago that she would consider herself to be one of Richard Castle's personal friends, she would have scoffed and written the person off as delusional. And yet, here she was.

And it was different to see him work his magic now, knowing him better. Interesting to note the difference in the charm and the publicity smile he was deploying now (to great effect) and the Rick Castle she had come to know, the real, down-to-earth man he was around Alexis. The man really was charming, with a ready smile and a welcoming word for every one of his fans, the hail-fellow-well-met jovial quip for the men and, yes, the tinge of flirtation in his interactions with women. Just enough to be flattering but not so much as to cross the line into actually hitting on them or being pushy or creepy. She knew from experience that he had a way of making every fan feel noticed, appreciated, but now she could appreciate more that it was mostly an act, a projection of his public persona.

It was a side of him she hadn't really seen in months, not since getting to know him, and it occurred to her with a clarity she hadn't had before that his not deploying his practiced, public persona with her from the beginning had been part of what had made her feel like she could talk to him. She wasn't someone who shared anything about herself readily, not with anyone, let alone a stranger as Castle had been at the time, but watching him now, she thought, she wouldn't have talked to this version of him. This version of him was charming but it was a superficial thing, shallow and only skin-deep.

She made no attempt to get his attention as she neared the front of the line, in fact did the opposite, keeping her head down and her face averted. He had been at this for more than hour already so she expected he was getting tired, although she doubted anyone else would really notice, distracted by his looks and his smile. (Which were definitely distracting. He was wearing a deep blue shirt that almost echoed the color of his eyes—was it bad that she was already so familiar with the exact shade of his eyes to know this even though she wasn't close enough to actually see his eyes?—and his suit jacket nicely showcased the breadth of his shoulders.)

When she reached the front of the line, he appeared to have run out of ink in the pen he'd been using so he switched it out for another one and automatically slid the top book off the stack of the latest Storm and opened it up to the front page. "Who should I make it out to?" he queried, his voice warm enough that it seemed to resonate in some feminine nerve in her ears. Even to her!

She slid her copy of _Gathering Storm_ onto the table. "Make it out to Detective Beckett." Her smile broke free at saying the title, the first time she had ever announced herself by it.

His head jerked up, his eyes going wide, his entire demeanor altering immediately. "Kate! What are you—did you say 'Detective Beckett'?" His face broke open into a grin as he pushed himself to his feet. "Does that mean you passed the exam?"

She returned his grin and nodded. "Yes, I passed."

"That's great!" Before she could blink or even realize what was happening, she abruptly found his arms pulling her into a somewhat awkward hug, separated as they still were by the table. She got a jumbled impression of the strength of his arms around her, the broad, solid warmth of him, a fleeting whiff of his scent as her nose brushed the collar of his shirt—and then he was releasing her to give her a beaming smile. And she tried very hard to convince herself that her pulse had not sped up and her cheeks did not feel flushed and if they did, it was only because of the warmth in the bookstore.

"Congratulations, Kate!"

She became belatedly aware of the increased buzz of noise behind her, knew she had become the focus of attention from the rest of his fans, and gave a somewhat flustered little laugh. "Thanks, Castle. I… uh… thought I'd drop by to tell you in person."

He glanced back at the waiting line, reminded of the surroundings. "Excuse me, I just need a minute to talk to my friend," he announced generally with one of his publicity smiles. And then he stepped out from behind the table, resting a hand on her back for a moment to usher her away, pausing as he did to grab her copy of _Gathering Storm_ with his other hand.

"I didn't mean to take you away from your fans," she balked a little, more because she felt she should than because she meant it.

He waved a dismissive hand as they came to a stop by the side of the store, half-shielded from the view of his legion of fans by a shelf. "Eh, they can wait," he said, although it was quiet enough that no one else would have heard. "Kate, you made Detective, that's great news! Is it official already?"

She smiled, feeling her own elation returning at his transparent excitement. "Not quite. I just turned in the application but Montgomery said he thinks it'll be official as of Monday or Tuesday at the latest and I can start working as a detective from Monday."

"Wow, Kate, that's so cool! And it seems fast, isn't it? I thought you said it would take a little while even after taking the exam."

Did he remember everything she'd said to him? "I thought it would but apparently I did well enough on the exam that the Chief of Detectives and Captain Montgomery agreed to promote me now." She didn't quite know how to say that she'd received the highest score on the test without sounding like she was boasting.

"That's amazing! We should celebrate! Unless—" he broke off, reining himself in. "Do you have other plans to celebrate already?"

"No, I don't have other plans. Lanie's working today so she's busy. But you're busy too, aren't you?" She tilted her head back to indicate his fans.

He made a small face. "Yeah, for a little while but after—"

"Rick." He was interrupted by a woman's voice and he started a little, turning to the black-haired woman who had addressed him. "What are you doing over here? You need to get back to signing. You can't keep your fans waiting like this."

"I know, Paula, but one of my closest friends just got promoted, I think I can take a minute to congratulate her."

Wait, what? Had he just called her one of his closest friends? She was? Oh lord. Her heart gave an entirely unbidden bound in her chest, warmth seeping through her. She was one of his closest friends—and he was one of hers too. There was a reason he'd been the first person she'd wanted to tell her news to. Admittedly she didn't have a lot of friends these days but he must have multitudes… She never would have thought that being called a friend—one of his closest friends!—would please her so much but somehow it really did.

"One minute, Rick, I'm watching the clock," the woman—Paula—oh, this must be his agent—returned.

He made a small, apologetic face. "Sorry about that. I need to get back to the signing but can you stick around until I'm done here? I'll be finished at 6 and then Alexis is expecting me home for dinner but you should come too. Alexis would love to see you and celebrate."

"Well…" She made a show of hesitating but oh, who was she kidding, had she ever planned on doing anything else? She'd wanted to tell him about making detective, wanted to celebrate with him—and Alexis—and of course she couldn't do that at one of his book signings. "Okay, I can wait," she agreed and then quickly added, with a teasing smile, "I would like to see Alexis again."

He laughed. "Oh, I see how it is. My kid is the real draw."

"Yeah, well, might as well get used to it, Castle," she smirked. "Alexis is cuter than you are."

"Aha, but you are admitting that I'm cute!" he declared, grinning.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Nope, not admitting any such thing, not to him, not now, not ever. "That wasn't what I said. I said that Alexis is cute; you, on the other hand, not so much."

"Oh, well, if you're just going to be mean, I'm going to go back to my other, _real_ fans," he joked but then added, "But before I do, can I sign your book since this is a book signing?"

"If you insist." She sternly bit back her smile as he opened _Gathering Storm_ and quickly scrawled something inside before handing it back to her. "There you are, _Detective_."

She laughed a little at his use of the title, a tiny, silly thrill wriggling through her. Detective—that was her now. "Thanks, Castle. Go back to your real fans."

He did, making a general apology to the first fan in line, and after watching for a minute, Kate succumbed to her curiosity and opened up _Gathering Storm_ to see what he'd written. And again, it wasn't just his signature. _Congrats to the extraordinary Detective Beckett. -RC._

Kate felt another little thrill, her cheeks heating up as her heart fluttered, but this time it wasn't about the title but his descriptive. Extraordinary. She smiled and had to duck her head in case anyone—by which she meant him—looked up and saw the expression of silly, girlish pleasure. He thought she was extraordinary. What had she done to deserve that encomium from him? But even as she wondered, part of her couldn't help but hug the praise close. She didn't understand how or why he thought she was extraordinary and it was a little terrifying too but, oh, she couldn't help but like it.

She found a seat in a corner and dropped into it, opening up _Gathering Storm_ , even if she had already read it (more than once), and settled in to wait.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers. Your appreciation for this story never fails to make me smile.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: In which there is Martha.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 19_

It was not quite an hour before Kate heard Castle's voice approaching and she looked up as he shook hands with a couple people, who were, she guessed, the store manager and other store employees, and exchanged a few words with his agent, Paula, and then he was coming toward her. She wouldn't have expected it but she could see that he was somewhat tired after dealing with his fans for two hours, his smile a little dimmer.

But for all that, his eyes brightened up as they met hers and a silly, unbidden butterfly fluttered to life in her chest at the sight. He really had such blue, blue eyes… (When had she become so susceptible to a pair of blue eyes?) "You've freed yourself from the clutches of your fans, Castle?" she quipped.

"You shouldn't mock," he smirked. "After all, didn't you check the Richard Castle website to find out where I was going to be today?"

She faced forward, schooling her expression into impassiveness. "I'm a cop, Castle. We have access to other resources to find out about public events." It was true; the fact that she hadn't needed to use those resources to find him today was irrelevant.

"You'd make a very effective stalker, wouldn't you?"

"It's my backup career plan in case this cop thing doesn't work out," she deadpanned.

He laughed. "Since you're about to be promoted, I guess your stalking days will just have to wait. Which reminds me, we should stop and pick up a cake or something to celebrate."

She demurred but he blithely overrode her objections and even insisted on paying for the small chocolate cake she picked, exclaiming that there was no way he could let her pay for her own celebration. She gave in and as they left the little bakery, thought to ask, "Oh, who's watching Alexis right now?"

"Oh, my mother picked Alexis up from school today and took her home since I was going to be busy with the book signing. So I guess you'll get to meet my mother today. I apologize in advance for anything she might say," he said with mock sincerity.

She sputtered a laugh. "Castle, that's terrible."

"You only say that because you haven't met my mother yet."

"I'm a cop, Castle; I'm not that thin-skinned."

"Lucky for you. Anyway, I want to know more about your promotion. How did you find out and what's going to happen? Is there some official ceremony?"

She told him the story of getting called into Montgomery's office, laughing at her own nervousness, and he listened with his usual attention and enthusiasm. She found herself telling him about receiving the highest score before she'd quite realized it, it slipping out as part of her story. She answered his question about an official ceremony, telling him that no, there wasn't one for being made a detective; she would only need to present herself at One PP to receive her shiny new detective badge and generally make nice with the higher-ups. She even found herself talking about the gossip and scuttlebutt she expected to go around the bullpen as a result of her fast promotion, the fact that she knew there were going to be people watching her as she moved up who would be, if not actively wishing for her to do badly (although there would inevitably be a couple who would), but who would, at least, not be disappointed if she tripped up. As nice as it was having Captain Montgomery and Detectives Hassan and Scanlon as mentors, there was going to be some grumbling about favoritism, not helped by her youth and her gender. She had to walk a fine line to earn and keep the respect of her colleagues. It was, she realized again, easy to talk to Castle, not only because he listened but because she had the odd (possibly irrational) sense that he understood somehow.

Her story occupied the rest of the short trip to the loft and he unlocked his door and ushered her inside to see an older woman with red hair as bright as Alexis's, who Kate recognized as being Broadway actress Martha Rodgers, rising from her seat on the couch, although Alexis herself was nowhere in sight.

"Hello, Mother," Castle greeted. "Where's Alexis?"

"Oh, she just ran upstairs to get the diorama you two made."

"Ah, right. This is—"

The woman waved a hand, cutting him off. "Oh don't tell me, Richard," she said as she approached Kate with both hands stretched out. "You must be the Kate that my granddaughter can't seem to stop talking about."

The Kate? Kate gave a small self-conscious laugh. "I am. It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Rodgers. I saw you perform in _The Glass Menagerie_ some years ago; you were wonderful."

Kate extended her hand to shake but instead Martha Rodgers accepted the hand only to tug her in to a hug, touching a scented cheek to Kate's. "Why, aren't you sweet, thank you. And none of that Ms. Rodgers formality, call me Martha and I will call you Katherine—Kate is short for Katherine, is it not?"

"Yes, it is." Of course no one had ever really called her Katherine except for occasionally when she was in trouble but she didn't actively mind being called Katherine.

"Going for flattery, huh, good call," Castle commented as an aside. Kate threw him a scolding look which he met with an insouciant grin. (Anyway, it wasn't flattery since it was true. Her mom had bought the tickets for the three of them to go watch _The Glass Menagerie_ , after Kate had read it in class when she'd been in high school, she remembered with the pang of grief she always felt at any thought of her mom.)

Martha flapped a hand at Castle. "Oh, be quiet, Richard, and let me talk to Katherine."

"I barely said anything," Castle complained.

"Don't mind him, Katherine. I swear I taught him better manners than this," Martha assured.

"Sure, if by manners, you mean how to make Bloody Marys. I think you taught me how to make those when I was younger than Alexis is now," Castle interjected.

Kate choked on half-horrified laughter but Martha ignored this. "Richard talks a lot of nonsense."

"Yes, I've noticed that," Kate responded, throwing Castle a smirk.

Martha nodded approvingly. "I think you'll be good at keeping Richard in line." She patted Kate's hand in a way that would have seemed a little affected in anyone else but somehow Martha's manner was such that she made old-fashioned gestures seem natural. "And aren't you a pretty little thing? Alexis didn't mention how pretty you were."

Kate felt herself flushing. She would never have thought she would like being called a pretty little thing but coming from Martha, she couldn't mind it. The way Martha said it, it didn't sound patronizing or infantilizing, just a little old-fashioned. The woman was so clearly welcoming and warm-hearted, even if she was dramatic. She had a sort of vitality that would fill a theatre and even in the homey space of the loft when she wasn't trying, seemed to fill it with her presence. "Thank you, Martha."

"I'm just glad to finally meet you after hearing so much about you. You seem to have made quite the impression on Alexis."

"Alexis is a great kid," Kate said honestly.

"Oh and here I am, talking at you, while you're still in your coat. Come in, make yourself at home. Richard, why haven't you offered Katherine anything to drink yet?" Martha fussed and then turned back to Kate. "You are joining us for dinner, I hope? We ordered a pizza and it should be arriving any minute now and fortunately, we always order plenty to allow for leftovers so it's as if it was fated that you join us."

Martha's spate of words was overtaken by the sound of footsteps as Alexis came lightly down the stairs, holding something like a shoe box. "Here it is, Grams—Kate!" she broke off, her face lighting up. The girl deposited the box on the table and then all but bounded over to throw herself at Kate with that enthusiasm that caught at Kate's heart. She wasn't sure when or how Alexis hugging her had become so… normal but she couldn't help but like it, the spontaneous physical affection warming her heart. It was a little terrifying too, this evidence of how attached Alexis had become, but what could she possibly do? How could she have treated Alexis any differently than she had? "Hi, Kate! I wasn't expecting you today!"

"Hi, Alexis."

"Hello, daughter," Castle inserted rather loudly. "Are you just going to ignore your own father?"

Alexis laughed and went over to wrap her arms around Castle. "Hi, Daddy! Did you find Kate to bring her over?"

"Actually, I surprised your dad at his book signing," Kate volunteered before Castle could.

"And then she followed me home and I couldn't get rid of her," Castle finished teasingly.

"Daddy, that's not nice," Alexis scolded. "I'm glad you came, Kate, and oh, you got to meet Grams!"

"We haven't scared her off yet but oh, Alexis, Kate has some news," Castle spoke up.

That drew both Alexis's and Martha's gaze to Kate and she smiled at the little girl. "I passed my detectives' exam so I'm going to be a detective from next week."

"Congratulations, Kate, that's so exciting!" Alexis exclaimed, running over to hug Kate again.

"Why, Katherine, that's wonderful," Martha chimed in.

"She got the top score too," Castle interjected, sounding as pleased on her behalf as if he were talking about an accomplishment of his own and she felt color flooding her cheeks at his tone, his look.

"I knew you'd do great," Alexis said happily. "Oh, we should celebrate."

Kate laughed. "Your dad said the same thing so that's why I'm here."

"I've trained her well," Castle interjected proudly. "Good girl, Alexis. We got a chocolate cake to celebrate with but first, we can all have dinner."

"Oh, but we should have a toast! Do you want wine, Katherine, or should we break out the champagne for this? Richard?" Martha asked, turning to Castle as Kate hesitated.

Castle raised inquiring brows at Kate. "Do you want either wine or champagne, Kate? Or actually, we have sparkling apple cider and that way, Alexis can join in the toast too," he suggested, tugging lightly at a lock of Alexis's hair.

"Oh, you need alcohol for a proper toast," Martha protested.

"Trust you to say that, Mother, but I think since this is for Kate, we can let her choose," Castle interceded.

Kate threw him a smile for that. No, she didn't need defending but having an ally—even against Martha's well-meaning gesture—wasn't unappreciated. And while she did drink, her father's history notwithstanding, she found she didn't love the idea of excluding Alexis since the little girl had been so happy for her. "Apple cider sounds great."

"Oh goody, I can get it," Alexis volunteered and ran off to the wine cooler to retrieve a bottle of apple cider tucked in among the wine, returning to present it to her father.

"Thank you, pumpkin." Castle got out three wine glasses and then from another shelf, brought out another wine stem that appeared to be made out of plastic, before opening the bottle and neatly pouring the cider into the glasses. "Here you are." He distributed the glasses of cider, starting with Kate and then Martha before giving Alexis her own plastic one, and then raising his own glass. "A toast, to Detective Kate Beckett." The warmth of his smile and his tone had her cheeks heating up.

"To Katherine."

"To Detective Kate Beckett," Alexis echoed her dad.

Kate smiled, warmth coiling around her heart. "Thank you. I really appreciate it," she said rather lamely but she didn't have words to express what it meant. Oh, this family. It was so... nice, for lack of a better word, to be surrounded by such approval, welcomed so readily by Martha, as Castle and Alexis always had. So nice to be able to relax in the warmth of the friendship she found here and even though she felt a pang of guilt at the thought, it was so much more pleasant than telling her dad would have been. Her dad would have congratulated her and said the right things and he would likely even have meant it but still, this was nicer, to celebrate without any of the tension and ambivalence that still tainted her relationship with her dad. (She did love her dad; she did.)

"Kate, after you become a detective, can you tell me and Daddy all about what it's like to be a detective and how it's different from being an officer?" Alexis asked.

"Richard, did you put her up to that?" Martha asked before Kate could answer.

"No, Grams. I really want to know so will you, Kate?"

"Of course I will," Kate assured the girl.

"Oh, goody. It's so cool that you get to solve real-life mysteries and catch bad guys," Alexis enthused.

"Just in case there was any doubt about whose daughter she is," Martha commented dryly but the smile she directed at her granddaughter was indulgent and filled with affection.

"She's a chip—" Castle began proudly, no doubt to say that Alexis was a chip off the old block, but he was interrupted by the sound of a knock at the front door and he broke off. "And I assume that's the pizza you ordered. I'll get it. Alexis, sweetie, can you set the table for us, please?"

Martha hadn't been kidding when she said they had ordered plenty. The pizza was large enough to feed at least six people and was accompanied by bread sticks and a home-made salad.

They all settled around the table, Martha making a conspicuous fourth to the group of three that Kate was accustomed to, but it didn't really feel any different than the other dinners had either. Although Kate suspected that was mostly due to the influence of Alexis because the little girl's presence seemed to dispel any potential awkwardness because she was so obviously at ease and was the center of attention anyway. Kate and Martha both duly admired the diorama of the African safari that Alexis had made with Castle's help, which was what was in the box Alexis had brought down with her. (Castle claimed that he had wanted to make a diorama of the opening scene from " _The Lion King_ ," of Simba being presented to the animals, but Alexis had overridden his suggestion and insisted on making an accurate—boring, as Castle jokingly called it—representation of the safari instead.)

The conversation at dinner was made noticeably more lively with Martha's presence with Castle, for once, being eclipsed and even seeming a little subdued in comparison, partly because he appeared willing to let Alexis and Martha do most of the talking. Kate probably wouldn't admit it to him but she could certainly understand why Castle referred to his mother as Hurricane Martha; she did rather have that effect, a vibrant and energetic whirlwind as she was, but so warm-hearted and generous with it all that Kate couldn't help but like her.

Castle and Martha exchanged a few barbed remarks that at first had Kate glancing at him askance but she quickly recognized the humor and affection threaded into the background of all they said and could only laugh even as watching the way Castle and Martha interacted made her feel a few pangs at the contrast between her own relationship with her dad. Castle's relationship with his mother was so… easy, the way they teased each other evidence of just how strong the bond between them was, a love that never needed to be put into words. Whereas she and her dad could only exchange mild teasing, if they teased at all, and even the humor was cautious. For all that her relationship with her dad was better now than it had been in the last few years (admittedly not a high bar to meet), seeing Castle and Martha was evidence of just how much healing remained to be done to fix her relationship with her dad.

The contrast was all the sharper and stronger, in a way that even watching Castle with Alexis had not been, because Castle's relationship with Martha was an example of a healthy adult relationship with a parent. And it was something Kate had never had. She had barely begun to navigate the evolution of a child's relationship with a parent into an adult's relationship with a parent when her mom had died and everything about her relationship with her dad had been forever mutated. Now, she might think that she wanted her old dad back and in the specific sense of wanting her stable, _sober_ dad back, she did, but in another sense, Kate was realistic enough to recognize that she could never really have her old relationship with her dad back simply because neither she nor her father were the same people they had been before, not just because of the life-shattering trauma they had experienced in losing her mom, but on a more basic level because she was older now, an adult in every way. Even if her mom were still alive—oh god, how that thought hurt—her relationship with her dad would have inevitably evolved in the last six years. The only thing was that she had never experienced or known what the end result of that natural evolution would look like; she'd never had a healthy adult relationship with her dad.

At least, witnessing Castle's relationship with his mom gave her a concrete example of what to hope for and work towards, the sort of relationship she should try to have with her dad, taking into account the obvious differences in personality.

And on a much less poignant note, it did make her wonder, not for the first time, what on earth was wrong with Castle's ex-wife, Alexis's mother, not only as an absent mother but simply as a woman, because judging from Castle's behavior to his family, she couldn't imagine any woman in her right mind wanting to divorce Castle.

When they had all eaten their fill of breadsticks and pizza, Castle got up to retrieve the cake they had bought earlier but when Kate stood up to help clear up, she was greeted by such a chorus of protest from Castle, Alexis, and Martha, that she had to give in and sit back down.

Once she'd done so, Alexis fixed inquisitive eyes on Kate and began, "Kate, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, Alexis," Kate answered readily. After all, Alexis had already asked if she had a boyfriend so this couldn't be that personal, right? Anyway, Alexis's tone was different, purely curious.

"Can you tell me about fingerprinting and how cops use fingerprinting to solve crimes? One of the boys mentioned it in school today and I thought I'd ask you because you must know everything about fingerprinting because you're a cop."

"Wait, I want to hear about this too," Castle interjected from behind them. "Make way for the cake."

He distributed slices of cake to everyone, starting to sing, "Happy promotion-day to you," to the tune of "Happy birthday."

Alexis squealed, "Silly Daddy, that song is for birthdays."

Kate laughed at the look of exaggerated hurt he pasted on and concurred, "No singing, please. Just a cake is enough."

"Fine, no singing," he huffed with mock resignation. "But that means you have to tell us about fingerprints now," he immediately perked up, sounding barely older than Alexis in his excitement. He was ridiculous but also (kind of) adorable too. Not that she would ever tell him so.

"All right, fingerprinting 101," she agreed and started to give a brief, potted summary of fingerprinting procedure. Or at least, she intended for it to be brief, mindful of Martha's presence, but Castle and Alexis both peppered her with enough questions that between the two of them, she ended up telling them just about everything she'd ever learned about fingerprinting, albeit somewhat simplified for Alexis's sake.

As she ran out of things to tell them, she glanced at Castle, intending to teasingly mention that his fingerprints would be in the system too, thanks to his escapade with the police horse, but decided against it, since his little daughter was around. Instead, she switched tacks and told the story of when she'd gone on a raid into a drug dealer's den back during her brief stint in Narcotics and although they'd found the place cleared out and largely free of prints due to the clever use of gloves, they'd managed to find one of those gloves discarded in the alley behind the den and she'd come up with the idea of fingerprinting the inside of the gloves and successfully retrieved a print that led them to at least one of the gang.

"The inside of the glove," Castle repeated, "ooh, that's sneaky, Beckett," he commented in the tone of one paying a compliment.

"That was really smart, Kate," Alexis added, giving her a look of such wide-eyed admiration that Kate couldn't help but feel a little thrill.

"Thanks."

"Very interesting," Martha added.

Kate gave a self-conscious little laugh. "Sorry, Martha, I guess I just monopolized the conversation."

Martha waved a dismissive hand in one of her trademark dramatic gestures Kate was already beginning to expect from her. "Nonsense, Katherine, if anything, I'll blame my son who never learned that curiosity killed the cat."

"Hey, it's not just plain curiosity," Castle objected. "It's book research! I'm a mystery writer so I need to know this stuff. In fact, I plan to write off the cost of the chocolate cake on my taxes as a business expense while I learned about fingerprinting procedure," he joked.

Kate scoffed. "Remind me to contact the IRS on you," she retorted.

Castle's "hey!" was almost drowned out by Martha's chuckle.

"Very good, Katherine, I thought you'd be good at keeping Richard in check."

Castle pulled a pout and Kate tried very hard not to focus on his lips, not to feel the sudden (okay, maybe not so sudden) curiosity about what it would be like to kiss him. (They were just friends! And that was all she wanted to be. Really.)

"If you're only going to make fun of me, then I'm going to start cleaning up because I'm a grown-up," Castle declared huffily, pushing his seat back as he stood up.

"And I think that's my cue to leave," Martha added, standing up in her turn.

"Oh, no, Grams, can't you stay longer?" Alexis asked.

Martha moved around the table and bent to cup Alexis's cheek in one beringed hand. "Now, darling, it's your bedtime soon and I have plans but I'll see you again on Sunday for brunch, remember?"

That made Alexis brighten up. "Yes, Grams, I remember." She moved to give her grandmother a hug. "Thanks for picking me up from school today, Grams."

"That was my pleasure," Martha assured.

"I'll walk out with you, Martha," Kate offered. "It's been a long couple days so I should be getting home myself."

"That would be lovely, Katherine."

That settled, Kate deposited her cake plate in the sink and gave Castle a smile. "Thanks for the cake and the celebration, Castle."

"Anytime, Detective," he answered.

She rapped her knuckles against one of the cabinet doors. "It's not official yet, Castle, so don't jinx it."

He only grinned. "You were the one that started it with the Detective Beckett thing. Do you want to take the rest of the cake home with you?"

She demurred and after a brief pushback, he acquiesced and he and Alexis both accompanied her and Martha to the door.

Alexis gave Kate a hug, which Kate returned—this was becoming something they did now, wasn't it?—while Castle bent his head to accept Martha's kiss on the cheek.

Martha moved to hug Alexis and also press a kiss to her cheek, and as naturally as if it was something they'd always done, Castle gave Kate a quick hug, his arms tugging her into his chest. It happened too quickly for her to really respond, her hands rather ineffectually fluttering up to rest on his back for a moment, as she got a fleeting impression (again) of being wrapped up in his solid warmth, making her feel somehow smaller against his bulk, warm and safe…

And then he had released her and stepped back, leaving her a little flushed and a little heated and trying very hard to convince herself that she was neither.

Kate pulled her gaze down to focus on Alexis, because smiling at the girl was… easier, safer, and touched her fingers lightly to Alexis's bright hair. "I don't know what my schedule will be like once I make detective but I'll let you know, okay, Alexis?"

Alexis nodded brightly. "Okay. Good luck at work, Kate!"

"Good night," Kate addressed both of them.

"Take care, Kate," Castle answered, putting an arm around Alexis's shoulders. "Get home safe, Mother, and we'll see you on Sunday."

"Good night, my darlings," Martha trilled, waving her hand, as she exited in a manner worthy of the stage. Kate hid a smile. She was getting the distinct impression that Martha lived according to the sentiment that "all the world's a stage."

The moment the elevator door closed, leaving Martha and Kate alone, Kate rethought the wisdom of leaving at the same time as the other woman turned to fix an assessing look on her and then said, "It really was lovely to meet you, Katherine, to finally put a face to all the stories I've heard but I must ask, are you dating my son?"

Kate choked on air. "No. No, Martha," she repeated. "We're just friends." They _were._

"I see." Martha appeared to mull it over and then added, "Far be it from me to tell you what to do with your life but I will say that I don't think I've ever seen my son look at a woman the way he looks at you and for all his faults, Richard is a good man."

Oh god. This was the longest elevator ride in the history of the earth. And why couldn't the elevator floor simply open up and swallow her? Since the universe hard-heartedly continued to exist, Kate floundered for a moment and then finally managed to say, "I know he is but I'm not looking for a relationship right now." She wasn't. She had her work to focus on, making detective was only the first step. She needed to prove herself as a detective, move up in the ranks, and maybe then, she could see about re-opening her mom's case.

And no matter what Martha said, Castle couldn't—he really couldn't—be interested in her for a real relationship. He was a multi-millionaire, to say nothing of being handsome and charming and famous. He could date any woman he wanted. Multi-millionaire celebrities like him did not end up with solitary, damaged cops.

"I see. Well, take it from someone who knows, life doesn't go according to plan."

She inwardly winced. She knew that. She had never planned to have her mom murdered, her case never solved. Never planned to have her dad become an alcoholic. Never planned to become a cop. She knew it wasn't what Martha meant but the words stung anyway. And well-meaning as they were, they only served as a reminder of why she valued the parts of her life she could control.

The elevator finally came to a stop and Kate tried not to feel like she was escaping anything as she and Martha stepped out into the lobby of the building.

Martha turned to her. "Katherine, I hope you don't mind my being so direct but I just want to see my son and granddaughter happy."

That allowed Kate to smile. "I understand and I don't mind. It was very nice to meet you."

Martha pulled Kate into another hug. "Likewise. It was lovely to meet you, Katherine, darling, and I'm sure I'll see you again soon. And congratulations again on your promotion."

"Thank you, Martha. Good night."

"You stay safe, Katherine."

Martha hailed a cab with the ease of a native New Yorker and was gone.

So that was Martha Rodgers, Broadway actress and Richard Castle's mother. Well, clearly there was no need to wonder where Castle got his sense of drama from, Kate smiled to herself as she made her way to her car. Martha aside—well, no, that wasn't fair, meeting Martha had not been bad—the entire evening had been a good one, heart-warming and fun and just the way she would have wanted to celebrate being made a detective.

And as for what Martha had said, well, Martha was just wrong, dramatizing things, that was all. Kate and Castle were _friends_ , nothing more. Really.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Another long chapter, in which we reach a turning point…

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 20_

The first three weeks after she made detective passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Afterwards, Kate remembered the weeks through something of a blur caused by exhaustion. There was a steady stream of bodies dropping that kept them all run off their feet. Kate fell into bed late every night and was back in the precinct by shortly after 7 every morning. She had to work on the weekends—detectives didn't have the freedom to take every other weekend off the way uniforms were because it was so dependent on casework, even if detectives had more freedom in setting their hours—and only took the time to have dinner with her dad but returned to the precinct immediately afterwards. She found that there was a steeper learning curve to being a detective than she'd expected, learning all over again the stark truth that there was a very big difference between watching detectives work and actually doing the work herself.

The first week, she mostly just watched the interviews and interrogations from observation as Hassan and Scanlon conducted the questioning but after that first week, she was in the room herself as backup for either Hassan or Scanlon. She was a fast learner but even so, it wasn't easy.

It was also just different because of the added responsibility of being a detective, rather than a uniformed officer. Detectives were the ones who filled out the affidavits for warrants and signed off on all the warrant requests, which meant that detectives were the ones who determined what evidence to look for, which in turn shaped the investigation. A badly-run investigation was blamed on the detectives, rightly enough. And detectives were the ones who were responsible for the chain of custody of evidence so even if uniforms were the ones to bring in and physically handle a lot of the evidence, detectives were held responsible if any piece of evidence was misplaced or otherwise not precisely accounted for in the chain of custody. (Kate got direct proof of that when one of the other detectives, Torres, was called to the carpet and reamed out when a piece of evidence was misplaced. It was later found but the scene—and what it meant—stayed in Kate's mind.)

And of course, detectives were the ones who were responsible for completing the vast majority of the paperwork after a case was completed. Kate suspected, but couldn't exactly complain about it, that Hassan and Scanlon were rather enjoying being able to assign her to do a lion's share of the paperwork, for training purposes, of course. (If it also got them out of doing a lot of it, although they did need to review what she did for at least the first couple cases, that was an additional perk.) She wasn't exactly thrilled about it but it was all part of being the low man on the totem pole, as it were.

She and Castle exchanged brief text messages, usually initiated by him when he passed along some news about Alexis (Alexis got a perfect score on a spelling test; she scored a goal in her soccer game; she had memorized two poems for class), and Kate responded.

But she texted him too, couldn't seem to help herself sometimes. She was still at the precinct late one evening trying to figure out a way to confirm or break a suspect's alibi and had sent Castle a text message summarizing the alibi and asking for theories. It was an impulse borne out of desperation and boredom but it had occurred to her that Castle of all people knew something about how alibis were made and so she'd asked. He had responded with a couple theories, one of which was borderline insane involving an evil identical twin but it had made her laugh and it turned out that another of his outside-the-box theories had sparked an idea in her mind so it had turned out to be helpful.

Another time, she and Hassan were searching the home of the suspected killer for incriminating evidence and she noted that the suspect had an entire shelf full of Patterson and Cannell but not a single one of Castle's books and after the case was closed, she sent Castle a text message telling him of it. He had responded, _I'm not saying his terrible taste in books is why he came to a bad end but you do have to wonder…_ She had smirked as she retorted, _Can they see your ego from the International Space Station?_

She sometimes thought that those brief exchanges with Castle were the brightest parts of her day, giving her a reason to smile and kindling a spark of warmth in her chest, before she returned to her work.

She missed Castle and Alexis to an almost ridiculous extent, thought about them more often than she cared to admit as she usually ate takeout for dinner at the precinct.

She met up with Lanie for a quick drink and allowed Lanie to toast her promotion. Hassan and Scanlon and some of the other detectives took her out for a beer after her detective's application was officially approved by Chief Waltner but it was basically the only social activity she allowed herself for those first three weeks.

Working as much as she was wasn't technically required but she was also well aware that she did need to prove herself. She was, as she'd heard shortly after her promotion, the youngest female detective in NYPD history and she wasn't naive enough to think that the muttering had nothing to do with her looks, not just her youth and the fact that she'd only been a uniform in Homicide for a little over six months. (If she'd been inclined to vanity, she thought that joining a profession where being an attractive woman was a definite drawback and not an asset would have done the trick.)

"Beckett."

Kate straightened and looked up from the paperwork on the last case they'd closed. "Yes, sir."

"In my office," Montgomery instructed.

"Of course, sir." Kate dutifully left the paperwork on her desk—one perk to her promotion, she had her own assigned desk in the bullpen now—and followed Montgomery into his office.

Montgomery sat down and gestured for Kate to sit as well, his easy posture as he leaned back in his chair the first indication Kate had that this wasn't some official Captain-and-detective meeting. "Well, Beckett, how's it going?"

She blinked at him. "Sir?"

Montgomery relaxed into a small smile. "At ease, Beckett. You haven't been called into the principal's office. I just thought I'd check in and see how things are going, now that you've been a detective for a couple weeks, gotten your feet wet, as it were."

"I'm fine, sir," she assured half-automatically and at least mostly truthfully. She hadn't been injured, hadn't committed any egregious errors on duty. She was starting to feel a little steadier on her feet, more sure of herself, when it came to work. She knew there was still a lot to learn but she didn't feel so immediately at a disadvantage.

"Of course you are, Beckett," Montgomery responded, a faintly dry edge to his voice.

"Sir?"

"I've been hearing about you, Beckett. The night shift has told me that you've been among the last to leave every night and usually the first one in the next morning. I know you haven't had any off-duty days either thanks to the case load the past few weeks."

"It's fine, sir. I understand, it's the nature of the job."

"The nature of the job," he repeated slowly and then abruptly asked, "How is your dad, Beckett?"

"He's fine, sir. I just saw him this past weekend."

He nodded. "Good. I figured you had and that's the only time you've really taken for yourself in weeks, isn't it?"

Well, yes, it was, but she understood and she wasn't sure why Captain Montgomery was bringing it up now. "It's fine, sir."

"Kate."

The rare use of her first name had her jerking her eyes up to meet the Captain's. "Yes, Captain?"

He sighed a little and sat forward, resting his arms on his desk. "Look, Kate, your drive, your determination, have got you where you are and I can already tell you that you're the best I've ever trained."

She allowed the faintest smile to escape her at this. "Thank you, sir."

He sobered, his eyes going to one of the picture frames on his desk which she knew was one of his family, his wife and his kids, before returning to focus on her. "We speak for the dead, Beckett. That's the job. We owe them that, to speak for them after the wicked rob them of their voices."

She felt her throat tighten up. Yes, she knew. It was why she did what she did, why she'd become a cop. To speak for her mom, the way her mom had always spoken up for the rights of others in her life. The way none of the detectives on her mom's case had done. "I know."

"But, Beckett, we don't owe them our lives."

"Sir?"

"I'm not trying to get involved in your personal life. It's none of my business but I wanted to say that the hours you've been putting in lately, you don't need to do that. You have done everything that could possibly have been expected of you when it comes to the job and then some but, Beckett, take it from someone who knows, this is a hard job. It takes it out of you and burning the candle at both ends the way you've been doing is not necessary."

Yes, actually, she thought it was. She was a young, reasonably attractive female cop in a profession that was dominated by men. She was used to having to work twice as hard and do twice as well in order to be taken seriously by the men around her. And on another level, she felt she needed to do well because she owed it to Captain Montgomery, to Detectives Hassan and Scanlon, all of whom had somewhat put themselves out on a limb to varying degrees to support her and help her. Oh, she wasn't naive enough to think it was done entirely out of the kindness of their hearts—it made for good PR for the NYPD to have young female officers do well—but even so, she knew she'd been lucky. Detectives Hassan and Scanlon were unusual because aside from never seeming interested in her looks, they also had taken her and her ambitions seriously, had stepped in to help her training and they had signed off on her promotion to detective. So if she failed as a detective, made some big screw-up, it would reflect badly on them as well as on Captain Montgomery, who had also supported her, vouched for her. "Yes, sir, but—"

"Beckett, listen," he interrupted as she paused, unusually for Captain Montgomery, who didn't often interrupt. "You've done good work so far. You've done me proud and no one could have expected better. But Beckett, you don't need to run yourself into the ground like this. This is a hard job and if we don't find some balance, find a way to keep some part of our lives for ourselves, that's a quick way to end up burned out. I've seen it happen, seen the toll this job can take, and I don't want your career to end up derailed by burnout."

"I understand, sir." She did and she had to appreciate Montgomery for taking the time, for caring enough to do so. She'd heard tales of some captains who were happy to work their detectives into the ground in order to pad their precinct's case closure stats, indifferent to the personal costs, but Montgomery wasn't one of them.

Montgomery's tone became brisker. "You guys just closed the Vasquez case?"

"Yes, sir. I'm working on the paperwork for it now."

He nodded. "Okay. Well, finish up the paperwork and turn it in but then, I want you to leave, Beckett. No staying here after hours tonight and unless another body drops, I don't want to see your face in the bullpen until around 9 tomorrow morning." He paused and then added with a faint smile that softened the tone, "That's an order, Detective."

She flashed a quick smile of gratitude. "Yes, sir. Thank you. Is that all, sir?" she asked before she stood up.

There was a brief pause and then with a change in tone, Montgomery added, "Actually, one more thing, Beckett."

"Yes, sir?"

His expression and his tone eased into something that was as close to casual as she'd seen it. "Have you talked to Rick Castle lately?"

Huh, what now? She blinked, caught off-guard by the mention of Castle's name in the precinct, when she was at work. She might find herself thinking about him more often than she cared to admit when she was at work, reminders of him nudging their way into her thoughts with disconcerting frequency, but she'd become used to (mostly) ignoring them. "Um, no, sir." She hesitated and then blurted out, in spite of herself, "Why?"

He waved a dismissive hand. "He was supposed to schedule the next poker night and I haven't heard from him. I know you're a friend of his so I just thought I'd ask."

Oh right. She did remember Castle mentioning that he played poker with her Captain but it hadn't come up again and she'd let it slip her mind. Oddly, she found she wasn't concerned about her personal and professional worlds colliding, at least not in this way. Castle had not used his acquaintance with Captain Montgomery to influence her work at all and even if he'd tried, she trusted Captain Montgomery not to allow it. It still seemed weird to imagine Castle and her Captain as poker buddies but she could manage weird. "Oh. Uh, well, I haven't talked to him but I suppose I could mention it next time I do," she volunteered.

"No need to go out of your way but if you do happen to run into him, you might as well," he concurred. "Now, go finish your paperwork and get out of here," he said briskly.

She let a quick smile escape. "Yes, sir, thank you."

Back at her desk, she checked the time and then on impulse—or just because she wanted to, because she'd missed them (him) and Montgomery had just reminded her again how long it had been—she sent Castle a text message, asking if he and Alexis were free and if so, if it was okay if she joined them for dinner that night. She apologized for the last minute-ness of it (it was just after 2 p.m.) but she couldn't help but think that he wouldn't mind.

His response came within ten minutes. _Yes! Alexis and I will be thrilled to see you._

She smiled, considered the paperwork she needed to finish up and then responded to his text, telling him she'd get there around 6:30. And returned to her paperwork with a little spurt of renewed energy.

It was just minutes after 6:30 when Kate arrived at Castle's building. Fatigue dragged at her steps but with every step, she felt a spark of happiness and anticipation kindle in her chest, loosening the lingering tension in her shoulders.

It was easy to smile as Castle's door was flung open at her knock to reveal Alexis, looking adorable and something like a cross between an elf and one of Robin Hood's merry men as she was wearing a pair of dark forest-green pants and a green and white striped shirt. She threw herself at Kate with a smile that could have lit up the Chrysler Building. "Kate, hi, you made it!"

Kate laughed and returned Alexis's hug. "Yes, I made it. Hi, Alexis."

Alexis took Kate's hand and half-led, half-tugged Kate inside, giving Kate just enough time to take off her jacket, before she led Kate further into the loft, announcing unnecessarily, "Daddy, Kate's here!"

Kate's eyes met Castle's with shared amusement as he grinned and raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, Kate," he called from the kitchen.

"Hey, Castle."

"I see my daughter has taken you hostage," he observed.

"A willing hostage, maybe," she returned with a grin.

He laughed. "Good. It would be awkward to have you arrest my daughter right before dinner."

"I'm hungry, I'll let it pass," she quipped.

"Your forbearance is appreciated," he informed her with mock solemnity.

"Kate, how has your work been?" Alexis interjected on the heels of Castle's words. "Have you been really busy?"

"Yes, work has been busy. That's why I haven't been able to come over for a while," Kate answered, "And being a detective is different from being an officer so I've had to learn a lot."

"Like what, Kate? I want to know all about being a detective because it sounds like it would be so cool!"

Kate had to laugh. She had never in her life met anyone who was so excited at the idea of her job as Castle and Alexis were. With Alexis, it seemed more to do with Alexis's general curiosity and eagerness to learn but it was still a little surprising to have a little girl, whose blue eyes were bright and limpid with all the innocence of childhood, express such a desire to learn about catching criminals.

"I want to know too so maybe Kate can tell us both all about her new job while we're eating," Castle suggested. "And on that note, pumpkin, will you set the table for us please? Kate, what would you like to drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks, Castle. Are you sure I can't help with anything?"

Unsurprisingly, he waved her off. "No, no, you just go sit down. You've had a long day at work and, I imagine, a busy few weeks so just relax."

Kate instituted a small bid for defiance by lingering to get her own glass of water and getting another for Alexis, while starting, partly to distract Castle, "Say, Castle, I have a message for you from Captain Montgomery." And how weird was that, passing on messages from her captain to her friend?

"Oh, what did Roy say?"

She tried not to blink at hearing Captain Montgomery referred to as Roy. She had heard the Captain's wife, Evelyn, do so on the few times she'd stopped in to see her husband at the precinct and she had heard Detective Hassan call the Captain Roy once or twice since Hassan and Captain Montgomery had been partners for almost two years before Montgomery had been promoted, but even so, it sounded strange to her ears. "He wanted to ask about your next poker night that you were supposed to schedule."

"Oh, right, thanks for reminding me. It's my turn to host my Gotham poker crew. Tell Roy I'll be in touch about the poker night in the next couple days."

His what now? "Your Gotham poker crew? What, you're friends with Batman now?" she quipped.

He laughed. "I wish. That would be so awesome! No, that's just what I call my poker group of a few city officials, including Montgomery, the DA Weldon, a judge and a couple others."

"You play poker with Bob Weldon, the DA? And a judge?"

"Yeah, I've known Bob for years and Judge Markway and I have played golf a few times."

She tried not to boggle. "You play golf with one of the judges who signs my warrants," she repeated. And he called the DA Bob. She was so out of her league here.

"Markway's a good guy," Castle confirmed. "He and his wife are big theatre buffs and fans of my mother's acting too, although," he added with a mischievous smirk, "I think that shows poor judgment."

"Daddy!" Alexis scolded, drowning out Kate's choke of half-horrified laughter, "that's not nice. I'll tell Grams you said that."

"It was a joke!" Castle protested. "You wouldn't betray your own father over a joke, would you, Alexis?" He directed a ridiculously entreating puppy dog look at his daughter.

Alexis pretended to think about it for a moment. "Not if you behave from now on, Daddy," Alexis said with mock sternness.

Kate grinned at Castle's look of exaggerated dismay. "Good for you, Alexis. Your dad needs someone to make him behave."

"Hey! I cook for you and this is how you repay me," Castle mock-grumbled as he brought dinner over to the table, rice along with a chicken and vegetable stir-fry.

"There's no broccoli, right?" Alexis asked suspiciously.

Oh, that's right, Alexis didn't like broccoli. "No broccoli," Castle confirmed as he sat down and directed eager, bright eyes to Kate. "Now, while we're eating, you can tell us all about what being a detective is like."

Kate laughed a little and obeyed. She told them about the way they approached a case, the way they put together a murder board with the timeline and the persons of interest. ("Sounds a lot like my story board," Castle commented as an aside and Alexis reached out to thwack him with the admonition, "Don't interrupt, Daddy, it's rude.") She told them about how detectives were the ones responsible for shaping an investigation because they decided on the scope of a warrant and then told them about warrants in general, after Castle (predictably) asked to know more. But Alexis wasn't a passive listener either; she wanted to know more about how interrogations worked and if people took her seriously as a detective even though she was a girl and so pretty (surprising Kate, not for the first time, with her insight) and Kate answered with limited honesty that sometimes people didn't take her seriously but it could also be an advantage too because it meant they underestimated her and said more than they should have.

Kate was not a talkative person but she found it was surprisingly easy to tell Castle and Alexis about her job, maybe because it was about work and work was the one thing in her life she was most confident about and maybe because Castle and Alexis were both eager, interested (and admiring) listeners. So for once, Kate found herself doing the bulk of the talking over the course of dinner and they were all done with their meals when she finished with a small laugh. "Okay, I think I've just about told you everything I've learned so far about being a detective."

"I knew it; you really are a badass," Castle crowed gleefully.

"Daddy, you said a bad word," Alexis spoke up, adding with a touch of mischief, "You owe me a dollar."

"Yes, Alexis, I know," Castle replied with exaggerated resignation and Kate had to laugh at his beleaguered expression. "She's way too happy about taking money from me," he pretended to grouse.

"Yeah, well, you should watch your language around your kid better," Kate retorted, smirking.

"Yeah, Daddy, watch your language," Alexis chimed in, shooting Kate a conspiratorial grin.

"Just for that, I think I'm not going to let you have dessert," Castle threatened, getting up to clear the table.

"Depriving us of dessert is cruel and unusual punishment," Kate shot back.

"Yeah and Kate can arrest people for that, can't you, Kate?" Alexis appealed to Kate.

Kate exchanged a grin with Alexis as she answered, "You know what, Alexis, I think I can, so you'd better behave, Castle."

Castle huffed and generally played up his disgruntlement in characteristically dramatic fashion. "Fine, fine, you can have dessert but I'm giving in under protest."

"Duly noted, Castle," Kate quipped before turning back to Alexis. "Now, Alexis, I want to know about you and what you've been doing. Your dad said you memorized two poems for class?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh. We had to recite the poems aloud to everyone."

"You got extra credit if you memorized two poems instead of one so of course Alexis, my little over-achiever, had to memorize two," Castle interjected.

"Good for you, Alexis. Which poems did you memorize?" Kate asked.

" _The Raven_ by Edgar Allen Poe and _Barbara Frietchie_ by John Greenleaf Whittier."

"I see. Well, I know your dad is a big fan of Edgar Allen Poe. Did he suggest that you memorize _The Raven_?"

"No, I picked that one but Daddy picked the other one for me to memorize."

"Why, Detective Beckett, have you been perusing the Richard Castle website again to know that I'm such a fan of Edgar Allen Poe?" Castle inserted, returning to the table bearing two bowls of ice cream which he proceeded to place before Kate and Alexis.

He returned to the table in another moment with his own bowl of ice cream, throwing Kate a smirk. "Do tell, Beckett, how do you know that I'm a big fan of Poe?"

It was from an interview he had given a few years ago (and yes, his website too) but Kate met his gaze blandly. "Your police file has your middle name and I figured that it wasn't too big of a leap that a mystery writer who's also a namesake of Poe's would be a fan of his."

He shot her a mildly skeptical look which she parried with her best poker face, but only said, "Nice deduction, Detective."

"I thought so," Kate returned, giving him a quick smirk before switching gears. "You picked out the other poem for Alexis to memorize?"

Castle shrugged with somewhat overblown casualness. "Alexis asked me for a suggestion so I suggested _Barbara Frietchie_ because I thought she'd appreciate a poem that celebrated a woman's courage."

Knowing him as she did, she suspected that meant he'd deliberately searched for poems celebrating a woman's courage. She felt treacherous warmth blossoming inside her chest. He really was such a good dad.

Kate turned back to Alexis. "I don't think I remember the poem _Barbara Frietchie_. Will you recite it for me, Alexis?"

"Sure, Kate," Alexis chirped. "Do you want me to recite _The Raven_ too?"

"Why not? We can have a little poetry recital after we finish dessert," Kate agreed. "What else are you learning in school, Alexis?"

Alexis answered as readily as always, recounting how they were learning to add and subtract fractions in math and about the water cycle in science and all about the games she and her friends had played at recess.

After they finished their desserts, they lingered in the dining area, both Kate and Castle only rearranging their chairs so they were both facing into the living area of the loft as Alexis assumed a pose of clasped hands in front of them and waited.

"Okay, we're all set, pumpkin," Castle announced.

Alexis flashed a quick smile but then smoothed her features into solemnity as she intoned in a tone several notes lower than her usual one. " _The Raven_ by Edgar Allen Poe. 'Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary…'"

The girl was really quite good. There were a few points where she ran out of breath and had to pause at not-quite-appropriate points in her recitation but she had all the lines down pat and recited with the musicality and sense of rhythm that the poem needed. Kate's applause when Alexis finished was sincere (and of course, it went without saying that Castle applauded with a fervor that indicated Alexis's recitation was the best dramatic performance since Sarah Bernhardt had graced the stage).

"Very good, Alexis!" Kate praised honestly. "That's a pretty long poem so it's even more impressive that you memorized the whole thing."

Alexis flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Kate. It wasn't too hard to memorize because of the repetition and Daddy helped a lot 'cause he knows it too."

"You might know the poem better than I do at this point, Alexis," Castle demurred.

"Don't be silly, Daddy. You've had the poem memorized for years and years."

"Now, I want to hear the poem, _Barbara Frietchie_ ," Kate interposed.

"Okay, Kate." Alexis resumed her pose and composed her features. " _Barbara Frietchie_ , by John Greenleaf Whittier."

This poem gave Alexis a little more scope for her budding dramatic skill, showing some of the theatrical instinct she had inherited from her grandmother. When she reached the climactic moment, of Dame Barbara grabbing up the flag before it could fall and waving it defiantly, as Alexis recited, feelingly, "'Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,/ But spare your country's flag,' she said," Alexis quickly grabbed a napkin from the counter and waved it as if it were the flag being waved by Barbara Frietchie.

Kate didn't remember having read the poem before, which made her enjoy Alexis's recital all the more, and she gladly applauded when Alexis was done.

Castle bounced up out of his seat and pressed a kiss to Alexis's hair. "That was awesome, pumpkin, your best recitation yet, I think."

Alexis laughed and turned her pleased face to Kate. "What did you think, Kate? Did you like it?"

"I did. I really liked how you acted out part of it, that was the perfect touch," Kate praised.

"Thank you. That was a suggestion Grams made when I recited it for her," Alexis dimpled, giving credit where it was due as usual.

"Oh, of course, Grams does like that extra dramatic touch," Castle noted rather dryly before he smiled at Alexis. "But Kate's right. It was the perfect touch to add and you did it just right."

Alexis beamed. "Thank you and I'll tell Grams you said so too."

"Now, Alexis, there's no need to encourage your grandmother in her drama," Castle promptly returned.

"Daddy, be nice," Alexis reproved mildly.

He made a face at her. "Fine, fine, Alexis, you can tell her. And now it's getting late."

"I know, Daddy. It's getting close to my bedtime so I should start getting ready for bed but Daddy, you should stay down here with Kate because she's a guest."

"Actually," Kate inserted, "I should probably get going too. It's been a busy few weeks so I'm looking forward to making an early night of it for once." Staying longer with only Castle was too… dangerous… It made her… think things, want things, she had no business thinking or wanting.

"Oh." Alexis looked briefly disappointed but brightened up as she asked, "Kate, will you come by again when you have time?"

Kate smiled at the girl. "When I have time, I'll let you guys know."

Alexis's smile lit up. "Okay, great! I'm really glad you could come over today. I like it when you have dinner with us," she admitted with all the ingenuous candor of children and then added, with a touch of mischief, "Plus I want to hear more cool stories about being a detective."

Kate threw a laughing glance at Castle. "Yeah, I can definitely see her resemblance to you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Castle grinned. "Now, up to bed with you, baby bird. I'll be up to tuck you in once I see Kate out."

"Yes, Daddy." Alexis threw her arms around Kate in a quick hug. "Good night, Kate! Thank you for coming tonight."

Oh god. The warmth, the affection, in Alexis's words and her embrace caught at Kate's heart with mingled pleasure and something like fear because she hadn't meant to let Alexis become so attached, hadn't intended to get so enmeshed in this family, but it had just happened and what could she have done differently anyway? She just… liked them, liked them so much, liked the way they made her laugh, liked the way they added a little bit of brightness and fun to her life.

Alexis scampered upstairs and Kate gave Castle a quick smile. "She really is a smart kid. Those were two long poems for her to memorize," she said even as she made something of a show of standing up and straightening her shirt and smoothing down her cuffs to try to hide her sudden discomfiture. She shouldn't feel so uncomfortable alone with Castle, she scolded herself, even if she was very aware that he was single now (and so was she) because they were only friends and nothing was going to happen between them.

"Thanks. I think so." He cleared off the table from their dessert things. "And thanks for the way you praised her recitation. I think it meant more coming from you because she looks up to you and I think she knows I'm biased."

"You don't need to thank me, Castle. I meant it; the way Alexis recited was impressive."

"Still. I appreciate it." Castle hesitated for a moment and then went on, his voice quieter, "Alexis has been a little down lately because she and I were supposed to fly out to California next week over her spring break but her mom called last week to tell us not to come after all because she was going to be gone, filming on location somewhere. Alexis has been doing better the last few days and then, having you come over made her perk right up."

Oh, damn, it was humbling and a little terrifying knowing she had such influence over a little kid. And she really had no defenses against Castle when he was like this, the sincere, down-to-earth, openly adoring father. She knew it, felt the traitorous tug of emotion, not just of physical attraction but of what was so much more dangerous, real liking (more than liking). ( _Shut up, no, he was only a friend._ )

"Alexis is a great kid," she answered even as she turned away and crossed the room to retrieve her jacket.

But her attempt at putting some distance between them failed as Castle only accompanied her across the room. Ever the polite host. "Yes, but still, she likes seeing you so thanks."

"Thank you for dinner," she returned, "and for letting me come over last minute and everything," she went on to fill the silence.

"It was our pleasure, like Alexis said." Castle paused and then added, with a change in tone, "I know you're busy with work but would you want to go out sometime? I mean, just with me, on a date."

Oh. Oh. Oh _damn_ … She hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected it (hadn't allowed herself to think it.)

She glanced up at him, couldn't not at his question, and stilled as her eyes met his, vaguely realizing that he was actually closer than she'd somehow thought, close enough that she could easily step into his arms—not that she would.

He made a small self-deprecating face. "Sorry, that came out more awkwardly than I meant it." Her heart squeezed a little at how… cute he was, how… endearing. (No, oh no, he was not cute, not endearing, not at all.)

Why oh why couldn't he have been more like the shallow, celebrity playboy she'd expected him to be before they'd met? She could have rejected the slick celebrity without a qualm or at most, had a one-night stand with him and then forgotten about it and walked away. But no, instead he'd turned out to be… himself, Rick Castle, and wormed his way past her defenses with his sincerity and his humor and she just… liked him. A lot. No, that wasn't helping.

His eyes—so blue and soft and filled with hope and something warmer than that, something terrifyingly like affection—held hers and she found her lungs had abruptly forgotten how to function. Her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest because, oh god, oh crap, how was this even happening to her, that Richard Castle was looking at her like this and asking her out on a real date and saying, "Kate, I like you, a lot, and you've become a really great friend over these last couple months, but I just… I think we could be more, I think we could be really great together."

She swallowed and tried to find words. "Castle, I… I don't—" she tried to force the words that she didn't like him that way out of her mouth but the lie stuck in her throat. She wasn't that good of a liar and she couldn't do that to him, not with his warm, hopeful eyes on hers. "I just... can't."

The light in his eyes dimmed a little, a faint frown creasing his forehead. "Why can't you?"

She should have known he would catch the implication that it wasn't because she didn't want to and not even she could say that her denial had sounded definite. (How could it be definite when a part of her was urging her to just give in and say yes and try for the real relationship with Rick Castle and all she actually wanted?)

But even as she thought it, older instincts flared up, fear and doubt and old, old hurts, and she knew she couldn't. She'd known it for years, really, that what she wanted was not the same as what she could have. Hoping didn't get her anything and in the end, handsome, charming multi-millionaires like Castle—no, it wasn't just about his looks or his charm or his money, but about _him_ , his kindness, his generosity, the way he made people laugh—didn't end up with people like her. He deserved better than someone like her, someone who was solitary, haunted by death, and broken in more ways than one. He deserved someone who would brighten up his life the way he did for those around him. More than that, _Alexis_ deserved better. She already knew that Alexis, happy child as she was, had her own wounds from her absent mother and Kate knew how attached to her Alexis had already become. How much worse would it be if Kate tried for a real relationship with Castle and it inevitably failed, foundered into a wreck on the jagged edges of her past and her baggage? She couldn't do that to Castle or to Alexis. Couldn't drag them into the tangled mess of death and alcoholism and murder that was her life.

No, no, she knew what she could have and this friendship—this friendship that had already brightened her life and come to mean so much to her—was enough, had to be enough.

Her hesitation had gone on too long and Castle breathed, "Kate…" and one hand hovered, lifted, as if to touch her face but oh no, she couldn't let him. If she let him touch her, she had the bad feeling, she would be lost, her vaunted will power reduced to ashes in the heat of his touch, their mutual physical attraction (because god knows, it was mutual and it would be so easy to give in and finally, finally learn what it was like to kiss him, so easy to want him…)

A flare of panic had her jerking her head back, stiffening her resolve. She needed to end this, get out of here now before her susceptibility to his eyes and, fine, just him got the better of her. And out of sheer desperation, she played a card she'd never expected to play, said words she knew he would never be able to overlook.

"But what about Alexis?"

He blinked and froze, his hand having already dropped at her movement. "Alexis adores you. She would love to spend more time with you."

She closed her eyes and her heart and said it. "But I'm not comfortable dating someone who has a kid. It's… too much for me. I'm just getting started as a detective and I have to focus on my career… Getting involved with someone who has a kid—it's too much."

She opened her eyes. He'd stepped back from her, just one step but somehow the look on his face, the faint lines of tension around his mouth, and his eyes cool, remote, made the space feel like a gaping chasm. She inwardly flinched, stupidly hurt, even if she knew it was to be expected, even what she deserved.

"Okay," he said flatly, his tone miles removed from the warmth and ease she was used to hearing in his voice (and would probably never hear again). "Well, I hope you're not planning to disappear on Alexis even just as a friend."

"No, I'm not." She tried and failed to muster up a wan smile as she added lamely, "I like being friends with Alexis."

Something flickered across his face but before she could so much as try to decipher it, she turned to leave. For the first time, she couldn't wait to get out of the loft. Damn it, damn it, she should have known that even this easy friendship with Castle was too good to last, too much to keep. "Thanks again for dinner," she said over her shoulder. "Good night."

"Good night."

The words were polite but also terribly final. Kate hid a wince and then she had opened the door and finally left the loft behind. And tried very hard not to think that she was also leaving behind the closest thing to happiness she'd managed to find. Stupid, melodramatic thinking. She wasn't doing any such thing. She had only done what she had to do, done the right thing. Castle would get over his disappointment and things could go back, maybe not quite to where they had been, but they could still be friends. And she would be just _fine_.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: If I promise a happy ending, will you promise not to kill me? *runs and hides*


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Another long chapter about what's going through Kate's mind…

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 21_

Lanie took one look at Kate when she walked into the morgue and blurted out, "Whoa, girl, what happened to you?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Kate clipped out succinctly. "You got the lab results back to confirm cause of death?"

"Eh, they'll take another 15 minutes or so," Lanie shrugged.

Kate narrowed her eyes at Lanie. "Then why did you text me to come over?"

"Because Morales mentioned to me the other day that you've been going around looking like your dog just died and working crazy long hours and since I know better than to think you would actually come over to just chat if something's wrong, I figured I'd corner you when I know you can't leave."

Damn it, Lanie. "Morales should mind her own business."

"Morales was just being sociable. She knows we're friends and figured I'd want to know and now I can see exactly why Morales was concerned."

How she hated the precinct gossip mill. She was just _fine_. Really, she was. So maybe she'd been having a little bit of trouble sleeping the last few days but that was a passing thing and had nothing to do with anything. (Liar, a voice in her mind spoke up. _Shut up!_ )

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Beckett. You look exhausted and from what Morales told me, you've been running yourself into the ground for a week." Her voice softened. "Come on, Kate, you know you can talk to me. I'm your friend so tell me what's wrong and don't tell me nothing is. You wouldn't look like you do if it was nothing. Is your dad okay?"

"He's fine," Kate answered quickly, the one positive thing she had right now. Her dad was fine, still sober. Even now, more than three months after finishing rehab. This time, this time, she was really starting to think might be it…

"Okay, good," Lanie's expression eased a little. "Then what is it? You've seemed so much better, happier, lately…" She trailed off and Kate tensed. She knew that look on Lanie's face. Lanie was putting two and two together and while she really really wished she could believe that Lanie would be coming up with ten, she didn't think she'd be that lucky. Lanie was too smart for that and knew her too well for that. It occurred to Kate she should have stupider friends; it would make this whole evasion thing much easier.

"Did something happen with Castle, Kate?"

She tried not to react at the sound of his name. It wasn't as if she'd been practically haunted by thoughts of him after all. Not one bit. She'd only thought about him every once in a while. ( _Sure, every once in a few seconds_ , a voice in her mind interjected. _Shut up!_ It wasn't true. She hadn't thought about him that often. No, just a couple hundred times… every day...)

Fine, so maybe she'd thought about him a little in the past week. (A lot.) He hadn't texted her or contacted her in any way. Of course he hadn't. She hadn't expected him to—but somehow the lack of contact still… hurt a little. Ridiculously. Stupidly.

She just… missed him. Missed being able to text him teasing messages when she thought of them, missed being able to look forward to receiving a text from him that would make her smile, brighten her day. And it was so _stupid_ because it wasn't as if she and Castle had been in the habit of texting every day; it had been maybe every couple days or so but somehow just knowing that he _wouldn't_ be texting her at all made her feel irrationally bereft.

It was all stupid. She had done the right thing, had done what she had to do. For herself, for him, for Alexis. She _knew_ she had. It didn't matter that she liked Castle, knew if she let herself that she could really fall for him. It didn't matter because there was no way it would end well, that she—as prickly and solitary and reserved as she was—could be enough for him. She couldn't be—she wasn't enough. And she couldn't let herself care about him—anyone—too much because people left or they tired of her and her issues or they died and she just couldn't deal with it. "Why would you think it had anything to do with Castle?" she tried to bluff her way out of it.

"Maybe because you don't have much of a personal life outside of your relationship with Castle and his daughter and maybe because you've seemed happier since you became friends with them and now you're not."

Kate really wished she could refute Lanie's statement about not having much of a personal life so she could deny that her mood had anything to do with Castle but of course she couldn't. It was true, pathetically enough. She socialized some with her co-workers and obviously Lanie, but beyond that, her social life was pretty much nonexistent aside from Castle, thanks to her work schedule being so unpredictable. And she no longer was someone who had a wide circle of friends, had lost contact with her high school friends because of distance and college. She'd lost contact with her college friends because they had eventually tired of her depressing self and then she'd transferred to NYU and left them behind anyway and at NYU, she'd been focused on surviving and worrying about her dad and making sure she had enough credits to graduate after transferring and so she could go abroad, put some distance between her and the city that suddenly felt cold and alien without her mom in it.

"Lanie…"

"Come on, Kate, talk to me."

Lanie's expression was kind, if also determined enough that Kate knew Lanie wasn't about to back down. Lanie was no sort of wilting flower to give way and as Kate knew from experience, was just as stubborn as Kate herself could be. And it wasn't as if Kate could really go anywhere, she did need to wait for the lab results to come back; Lanie had been right about that. And after all, maybe Lanie could help, could make her feel a little better about what she'd done.

"Castle asked me out," Kate finally admitted, her voice low.

Lanie frowned a little. "I thought he had a girlfriend?"

Kate was irrationally irritated at Lanie for even thinking that Castle might be so sleazy and crass as to ask her out when he knew she knew that he had a girlfriend already—or that if he had done any such thing, Kate would have suffered so much as one second of regret over rejecting him. "He broke up with her months ago."

Lanie's expression cleared, a smirk now tugging at her lips. "And he asked you out? Ha, I knew it!" She sobered. "Wait, if that's all that happened, what are you moping about? You should be celebrating, girl." She paused and then frowned, directing a rather direful look at Kate. "Beckett, tell me you did not just turn down Richard Castle. Katherine Beckett!"

"Don't Katherine Beckett me," Kate shot back.

"Are you out of your ever-living mind? You cannot tell me you don't want to be with Rick Castle. You're not dead or blind so you must be crazy."

"Of course I want to be with Castle!" Kate burst out, goaded into the admission she'd barely admitted to herself. "I just can't!"

There was a brief pause in which her outburst seemed to linger in the air as Lanie eyed her dubiously.

"You can't," she repeated slowly, giving Kate a supremely skeptical look. "Because… you're secretly a nun?" she asked sarcastically.

Kate glared. "Don't be ridiculous, Lanie."

"Because otherwise, I'm not seeing an obstacle here. He's single, you're single. He likes you and I know you like him. So why can't you date him?"

"Because," Kate retorted.

Lanie snorted. "What are you, twelve? That's not a reason. Now talk, Kate Beckett, and remember I have scalpels and I know how to use them."

Kate pulled a face at Lanie, aware that they were devolving into juvenile behavior but not caring that much at the moment. And didn't answer. Partly out of reluctance and partly because she was formulating what to say, how to even express her jumbled thoughts, fears.

"Beckett, I'm waiting," Lanie prodded after a long minute. "Why can't you date Castle?"

Kate sighed and allowed herself to slump a little. "Because I don't believe in fairy tales."

Lanie blinked. "Will you stop talking in riddles? What do fairy tales have to do with anything?"

"Because, Lanie, Castle might think he likes me now but it won't last. It can't last. I mean, think about it, Lanie! He's this gorgeous celebrity multi-millionaire and he's a really great guy on top of that, he could be with anyone he wanted—and I'm just a cop. I'm not some model or actress and I work for a living. I'm not Cinderella and I can't pretend to be."

"Who's asking you to pretend? Castle knows you're a cop and from what I saw, he thinks it's cool so what's your issue?"

"Because it could never work out between us and I'm not going to set myself up for failure."

"Kate," Lanie sighed. "You can't know for sure how any relationship will turn out. No one is saying you have to marry the man; just date him and see where it goes. Take a chance and hope for the best, that's all you can really do."

Kate tried but couldn't quite keep from wincing. "You don't get it, Lanie. I don't believe in hoping. Hoping hurts too much when it doesn't happen and I can't take it, Lanie. I don't hope for things that I can't control; it doesn't turn out well for me. Maybe for some people, it does, but not for me. Hoping didn't do anything when my dad was—" she broke off abruptly, almost choking as her throat closed on a knot of emotion, of memories. No, no, hoping had never gotten her anywhere with her dad, had only hurt, time and time again, when she let herself hope in his recovery and he had always, always relapsed before. Even now, after more than three months, she couldn't—didn't—rely on it lasting, didn't hope. She only waited, braced for the worst, and accepted every additional day that he stayed sober as an unexpected gift. That was all she could do.

It was Lanie's turn to wince but she didn't back down. "Kate," she said, her voice now soft, gentle, "this is different. Your dad—that's an illness, you couldn't control it and you weren't to blame for it. You _know_ that. But a relationship is not the same thing."

"It's not just that, Lanie. You—you don't get it. I don't do relationships; I'm no good at them. I'm just… not enough and I'm not going to pretend that I am."

"Not enough? For a relationship? Kate, what are you talking about?"

She hadn't been enough for her dad, not enough to keep him from drowning. She couldn't talk about that. But it wasn't only her dad. "I'm not enough for a relationship to work. I've never had a relationship that worked. There was Pawel that I dated for a couple months in Kiev and after I told him about my mom, he dumped me, told me that I was 'too sad.'" She had told Pawel about her mom, back in college, when her mom hadn't been gone for even a year, and he had held her as she cried but then the next time she'd seen him, he had been making out with some blonde against his door and when she'd confronted him, he'd told her that she was hot but 'too sad.' Not that she cared anymore, thought he was well lost. But then…

"And then, there was… Royce, my—my training officer…" She trailed off. God, she was over Royce, she _was_ , but how was it that just saying his name still made her heart react, her cheeks flush? She had—thought she had—loved him. Loved him, needed him, the way a drowning man loved and needed a life raft. "I was too young, too… green, for him. He told me so."

She cringed now at the memory, going to see Royce the moment she'd been promoted from being a rookie, made a full uniform and no longer his trainee. How young, how… hopeful she had been, more than two years ago now. She had… basically offered herself to him. Not in so many words, she'd only suggested that now that he was no longer her training officer, maybe they could go out for a drink or dinner sometime—but they had both known what she meant, her hot blush and her faltering words coming in wavering spurts of boldness and nervousness giving her away even if he hadn't already known how she felt. She knew he had; he was older than she was by more than 15 years, was experienced, and she had been starry-eyed, hung on his every word. And she'd hoped—she'd seen the way his eyes occasionally followed her form, looked at her body in her more revealing workout clothes when they sparred and some other times.

She still remembered the way he had looked at her that day, his eyes dark with something like… regret?—the way he had sighed. And she still remembered—oh did she remember—the hurt, the humiliation, of his response. "Ah, kid, don't, don't say that, you know we can't. You're too young, you've got your entire career ahead of you, your mother's case to solve. You're gonna go far, kid, I know it, but it won't be with me. You're not for me, kid."

"Don't call me kid," she had flared with sudden irritation at his nickname for her, the distance it kept between them. "I'm not a kid."

"You are to me," he'd told her quietly but firmly. "Good-bye, kid."

Another time she had allowed herself to hope for something good, something she wanted but was out of her control, and yet another disappointment as the hope was crushed.

She had only seen Royce twice since then, once briefly in her last stop at her training precinct before she was officially transferred to the 12th, as he finished processing her out, his last duty as her training officer, given her a brisk farewell and wished her luck, and then he'd left. And then the next time had been in passing a few months later, from across the street, and she wasn't sure if he had even seen her. That was all. For a year, he had been her mentor, her friend, her hero—and then he'd dropped her, just like that, the moment she had indicated she wanted more.

"And then, there was, well, Adam," Kate went on. Lanie knew the basics about Adam already. "He was barely a relationship at all but when he broke it off, he told me I was too focused on my work." Adam, her last attempt at a relationship, abbreviated as it was, almost a year ago. And that had only consisted of a few dates and two forgettable nights, punctuated by her having to cancel plans on him because a body had dropped and at the third time, he'd lost patience. Not that she'd cared all that much; her pride had been more involved than her feelings at that point, but still.

Too sad. Too young. Too focused on her work. But what it really came down to was that it was her, that she hadn't been good enough in some way. Not enough for her dad and not enough for any of the men she had tried to have a relationship with in her adult life. How could she believe she would be enough for Castle—handsome, smart, kind, funny Richard Castle, who could date any woman he wanted?

"Oh, honey…" Lanie sighed, stripping off her rubber gloves, and moving to Kate's side to slide her arm around Kate's shoulders.

Kate wasn't normally one for hugging ( _she'd liked Castle's hugs just fine_ , a little voice in her mind spoke up but she ignored it, that would never happen again) but she allowed herself to feel a little comforted at the warmth of Lanie's arm around her, the affection in the gesture. She wasn't entirely bereft; she still had Lanie. Supportive, loyal Lanie, even with all her sass and bluntness. "So you see what I'm saying, Lanie?"

"No, Kate, I think you're full of it," Lanie answered, her voice soft, entirely belying her words.

For a split second, Kate reacted more to the tone than to the words and then their import registered and she stiffened, jerking out of Lanie's arm. "Lanie!"

"Don't 'Lanie' me. I'm your friend and I care about you so I'm not just going to stand by and let you throw something like this away."

"It's my life, Lanie," Kate retorted, trying to sound more defiant than petulant. "I can make my own decisions."

"Normally, yes, but you've got yourself so twisted up, you're not thinking straight. So now, you listen to me."

"Do I have a choice?" Kate muttered ungraciously.

Lanie ignored this. "First of all, this Pawel you dated in Kiev, he was—what? 21 at the time?"

"22, I think," Kate answered grudgingly.

"Same difference," her friend shrugged off the extra year. "Boys that age are generally self-centered idiots so him breaking up with you after you told him about your mom, that just means he's a jerk, it has nothing to do with you."

Fine, she could admit that. "That's only him." Admittedly, he wasn't the only person who'd abandoned her because they didn't want to deal with her grief; her college friends had too. As the saying went, laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone. As it was, even she had to admit that her lachrymose self could not have been any fun to spend time with, couldn't even blame her friends for gradually drifting away.

"You're allowed to grieve, Kate, and anyway, Castle knows about what happened to your mom, he has for months, so if he was going to be scared away by it, it would have already happened by now."

Maybe he did know about her mom but he'd never actually seen her cry about it. He didn't know about the nightmares she still had, of a faceless menacing figure stabbing her mom in an alley and then leaving her to die alone, or the nightmares of her dad drinking himself to death. Didn't know about the nights she still woke herself with sobbing. She'd never shown him just how broken she was, never showed anyone that. Royce had known the most and look how that turned out.

"And as for Royce, I know he meant a lot to you but, Kate, he was… kind of a love-'em-and-leave-'em type, didn't really do serious relationships."

"How can you say that?" Kate flared with sudden defensive anger. "You never even met Royce! You don't know him at all!"

Lanie kept her cool. "I might not have met Royce myself but I've heard things and people talk. You know how cops gossip so I've heard a lot about him especially because he was popular among cops, every guy's friend and the guy a lot of women wanted to be with."

Kate felt herself flushing in spite of herself. She of all people knew how attractive Royce was but she hadn't exactly stopped to think about how many other women would have thought the same. "It's gossip. You know gossip isn't always true."

"I know that but in Royce's case, the stories are too consistent to be entirely false. He wasn't a saint when it came to women—"

"I don't want to hear this," Kate interrupted, barely stopping herself from the juvenile gesture of clapping her hands over her ears.

Predictably, that didn't stop Lanie. "I'm not saying he was a total sleaze but he did have his fair share of women from all I heard. I mean, the guys I heard from thought it was cool, envied him, but among the women, he got a reputation, not for being a bad guy, but one who avoided relationships like the plague. He didn't do relationships, a couple dates, that was all, and then he was moving on."

Kate abruptly remembered, with a little sinking of her spirits, that that was borne out even in the year she had known Royce, spent so much time with him. Royce hadn't had a single real relationship in that time to Kate's knowledge and he'd never mentioned, even in passing, a real relationship in his past. She knew Royce had had some brief affairs but they had been just that, brief, meaningless.

"So what are you saying, that I was an idiot for liking Royce?" Kate retorted rather truculently.

Lanie only gave her a look. Fine, yes, she was spoiling for an argument. "No, Kate," Lanie said more gently. "I'm just saying that Royce turning you down probably had more to do with his issues than with you. And Castle clearly doesn't think you're too young and he's years younger than Royce anyway."

 _Mm, yeah, Castle was younger than Royce, younger and hotter and…_ (Shut up! That wasn't the point.)

"Look, Kate, all I'm saying is that you can't write off all relationships just because your last few tries have been duds. That doesn't mean you were the problem or that any of your future relationships are doomed. And Castle already knows about your mom and that your schedule can be unpredictable and he's willing to give it a try so why don't you?"

"Because it would never work," Kate muttered, trying to suppress the images forming into her mind, of feeling Castle's arms around her for more than just a brief, mostly platonic hug, of kissing Castle, going to bed with Castle—and other, more innocent images of cuddling with Castle and Alexis too on the couch- _stop it! stop it!_

"Kate, you can't know that for sure. You and Castle are already friends and you know you want him, Kate, and he wants you so I say you should go for it, go for him. You're overdue for some luck to come your way."

"Lanie…" Kate sighed. "I just can't believe that. I don't believe in luck. We're so different and he's… well, Richard Castle and I'm just a cop and Castle has Alexis to worry about too. He shouldn't have to deal with me and my messed up life." She didn't believe in luck, not for her, at any rate, not anymore. She was too damaged, too haunted by her mother's murder, her father's troubles. No, she had done what was right, what was best for both of them—for all of them, for herself, for Castle, for Alexis.

"Girl, one of these days, I'm just gonna smack some sense into you."

Kate narrowed her eyes at Lanie in a rather half-hearted glare. This was not sympathy and it wasn't helping her feel better.

Lanie's tone gentled. "Look, Kate, in all seriousness, I get that you don't believe in luck but you're forgetting that relationships aren't actually about luck; they're about putting in the effort and if you don't at least try, you'll never know. Failure by default. Give Castle a chance. Come on, Beckett," Lanie nudged her with an elbow and gave her an engaging, encouraging smirk. "Detective Kate Beckett doesn't back down from anything."

Kate managed a choke of laughter. "Maybe _Detective Beckett_ doesn't but Kate does." No, _Katie_ Beckett was the one who had been fearless—but Katie had never had the bottom drop out of her world, had never known how much life could hurt. And Kate wasn't that girl anymore.

Lanie slid her arm around Kate's shoulders again. "I don't believe that. You've got more steel in your spine than anyone I—" Her words were interrupted by the little noise that indicated lab results had come in. "Anyone I know, Kate," she finished. "Just think about it." She squeezed Kate's shoulder briefly. "I think you and Rick Castle would make a really cute couple."

She moved away, going towards the computer. "Okay, Beckett, you can relax now, the personal conversation's over. I've got the lab results here. COD was cyanide poisoning and I'm putting the time of death window between 4 and 7 a.m."

"Cyanide poisoning," Kate repeated in some surprise, snapping back into work mode. "That's a new one for me. Okay, I'll let Hassan know." She paused. "Thanks, Lanie." For the lab results and, well, the talk too. It might not have always been pleasant but Lanie meant well and Kate couldn't feel that angry at Lanie because she knew that at base, Lanie really did just want Kate to be happy.

Kate suppressed a sigh. Happiness wasn't something she expected either.

"Any time, Beckett. See you later."

Kate waved a hand in goodbye as she left the morgue, pulling out her phone to text Hassan the information.

Cyanide poisoning—god, Castle would think that was so cool. The errant thought darted across her mind and she flinched a little. She really needed to stop thinking about Castle so much. How had it even happened, that he had somehow become so much a part of her mental landscape that thoughts of him intruded so frequently? She'd never been like this before.

 _Get a grip, Kate._ So she told herself sternly. She didn't have time to brood about her personal life now; she had a murder to solve.

* * *

Castle devoted himself to Alexis entirely in the days following the debacle that had been asking Kate out. Partly because he wanted to reassure himself that he could be enough for Alexis, be both mother and father to her, and keep her happy and cheerful, no matter how he himself might be feeling. And partly because he knew of no better cure for his unhappiness than spending time with his favorite person in the world, whose sunny smile lit up his world like nothing and no one else could.

He was fine, would be fine, he told himself. He hadn't actually lost anything, not really, since you couldn't lose something you never had. And it was stupid to feel so… bereft at the thought of losing, well, all he had hoped for, wanted, when it came to Kate, losing all that might have been—no, it could never have happened, he reminded himself sternly. He had been wrong about Kate, that was all. The woman he had started to fall for didn't really exist. He had made up an image of her in his head and bought in to his own imaginings. He did have a tendency to do that. He spent so much time making up stories about people, from passing strangers and acquaintances and people with whom he was friendly, and sometimes, the stories he made up became so real to him that he forgot that they were just stories, fiction. It was how he occasionally became infatuated with random women he talked to for a minute on the subway or saw in a coffee shop; he imbued them with imagined qualities and interesting stories and, Pygmalion-like, became infatuated with his creation.

And as for Kate, well, clearly he hadn't known her nearly as well as he thought he did. He had fallen victim to one of the classic blunders (not the one about never getting involved in a land war in Asia) but the other, more common one of assuming that someone who was gorgeous on the outside had to be just as attractive on the inside. And maybe after all, part of it was that he had just broken up with Gina, who was also all-business, and he'd assumed that simply because Kate was so different from Gina in just about every other way, she had to be different in the emphasis she put on her career. Of course he'd known that Kate was dedicated to her job, the hours she put in and more than that, the intensity he'd heard in her voice when she spoke about her job, her history with her mom's case, all that indicated that Kate was a dedicated cop. He admired her for it. He just hadn't thought that Kate, with her kindness and her humor, her warmth with Alexis, would prioritize her job over a relationship, a kid.

Over and over, he heard Kate's cool tone as she told him, _I have to focus on my career… Getting involved with someone who has a kid—it's too much…_ And just like the first time he'd heard them, the words struck him like a slap in the face.

He had already given Alexis one woman in her life who cared more about herself and her career than she did about Alexis—Meredith—and while he hadn't consciously chosen Meredith to be the mother of his child, well, it was still on him. Every time Meredith hurt Alexis with her self-centeredness and her blithe disregard of promises, he felt the razor of guilt slicing at him, mingled in with the anger and the sorrow. And every time, he swore to himself that he would never, ever do anything to put Alexis in the position of being hurt by another woman again. Even if it meant he never found a woman to share his life with, he couldn't let Alexis be hurt again. Alexis came first, had to come first. He could never date any woman who would not accept and care about Alexis too.

He supposed he should be grateful to Kate for her honesty. He'd known some other women who were equally uninterested in having a kid around but who'd been more than willing to use him for a free meal and a ride in bed before showing that side of their character. Being disillusioned now was better. Better, before he could start to build any more fantasies of him and Kate as a couple, before he spent any more time falling for her because of her wit and her cleverness and her intensity and her drive.

Not that he was feeling all that inclined to be grateful. He felt almost savagely disappointed, felt a little boy urge to fling a toy to the ground after it failed to be magic, to break something just because he accidentally hurt himself on it. ( _Real mature, Rick._ Shut up!)

He veered between anger at Kate and at himself for deluding himself so thoroughly and sick disappointment, mingled in with hurt. Hurt that no matter that Kate appeared to like him as a friend and was attracted to him, clearly she didn't want to date him, didn't want to be with him.

"Daddy? Daddy, you're not listening." Alexis's voice and her nudge brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to look at her, putting on a smile.

"What is it, sweetie?"

She gave him one of her adorable little irritated scowls. "I asked you if I could have another cookie and you didn't hear me, you were paying too much attention to the TV."

Well, not the TV but certainly he hadn't heard her question. He inwardly winced. Damn it, he tried never to get so lost in his thoughts when Alexis was around. "I'm sorry I was distracted, sweetie. Of course you can have another cookie."

Her frown cleared. "Okay, thanks, Daddy." She popped up off the couch to get another cookie before rejoining him while he put his arm around her and made a point of kissing her hair to make up for his distraction.

The show ended about half an hour later and he gave Alexis a little squeeze before nudging her. "Come on, baby bird, time to get ready for bed."

"I know, Daddy, and you have your poker night to get ready for, don't you?"

Oh yeah, that. "Yes, I do, thanks for reminding me, pumpkin." He teasingly chivvied Alexis up the stairs while he went to work clearing up some space in the library section to set up the small folding table and chairs that he kept for his poker nights. He couldn't decide if he was happy about this poker night or not. On the one hand, he could use the distraction and the male camaraderie of it; on the other hand, he wasn't precisely thrilled at the idea of having to pretend for the next couple hours that he was not distracted and, fine, a little depressed. Never mind, too late now.

His poker nights were one of the few events of his social life he allowed to intrude into the sanctity of his home now that Alexis was around. (Well, except for the times Kate had come over, he thought with a little pang.) It worked out nicely now that Alexis was older and could be trusted to sleep through the night because the evenings started around Alexis's bedtime so she was safely tucked up in bed while he and either his writer buddies or the Gotham crew played poker downstairs.

He heard the first knock at the door just as he was setting up the last chair and went to open the door to see Roy Montgomery. Kate's boss. Damn it, no, he was not doing this, was not going to start associating everything with Kate. He'd been friends with Roy Montgomery since well before he'd ever met Kate Beckett and he wasn't about to let that change. "Roy, good to see you," he greeted, pasting an easy smile on his face.

"Castle," Montgomery greeted, shaking his hand as he stepped inside. "How's the latest book coming?"

"Fine," Castle answered automatically—and somewhat less than truthfully. It _had been_ coming along fine, had been coming along great, in fact, up until last week. He'd been more energized and inspired to write than he had in years, the words coming in a steady stream as he wrote Derrick Storm entering into a pseudo-partnership of sorts with a grieving son who was trying to find the truth about his estranged father's untimely death, imbuing the story (and Derrick) some of the drive and passion for justice that animated Kate. Giving Derrick Storm a final book that would please his fans (like Kate) who still liked the character. And that was the problem. He'd been writing for Kate, just like the top of his Word document read (he hadn't been able to bring himself to delete the planned dedication yet, stupidly), and after Kate had left, well, much of his own inspiration had as well.

Not helped by his brooding mood since he never tended to write well when he was depressed. (Case in point, the execrable piece of writing that was _Hell Hath No Fury_ had been written in the aftermath of Meredith cheating on him and leaving him.)

Now, well, he was going to have to finish this last Derrick Storm book (even if he forced it) and then, he didn't know. He knew he still wanted to move on from Derrick; that hadn't changed but he couldn't move on to the new character he'd been (not so) idly sketching out in his head that was inspired by Kate, not anymore. Gina was not going to be pleased but he decided he would worry about that after he finished the last Storm book.

"Glad to hear it." Montgomery paused and then added dryly, "I could live without hearing you grumbling whenever you get stuck in your writing."

Castle forced a half-laugh, playing along with the teasing. "Your sympathy is overwhelming," he retorted ironically.

Montgomery grinned at that. "It wasn't meant to be."

He was interrupted by Alexis coming down the stairs, looking like the most adorable kid in the world (in Castle's entirely biased opinion) in her pajamas decorated with smiling turtles, a recent acquisition inspired by Barty the Turtle. "Daddy, I'm ready for bed—oh, hi, Captain Montgomery," Alexis greeted with just a touch of shyness.

Roy greeted Alexis with an ease that always reminded Castle that Roy had kids too and exchanged a few idle words with her.

"Roy, you know where the liquor cabinet is and glasses are out so help yourself. I'll be right back," Castle inserted.

"Bye, Captain," Alexis waved as she turned to go back up the stairs.

"Good night, Alexis, sleep well."

Castle gave Alexis a teasing nudge on the back, "Up you go, baby bird," to send her scampering up the stairs and tucked her into bed with a hug and a kiss. "Sweet dreams, Alexis."

"Night, Daddy."

He paused at the door of her room for a last look as she closed her eyes and snuggled into her pillow, his heart clenching at the wave of love that flooded his chest at the sight. She was so young still, his little girl, so vulnerable. And he would do everything he could to protect her from being hurt in any way.

He returned downstairs to see that Roy had poured himself some whiskey and he lifted his glass to Castle in a half-mocking toast. "Thanks for the drink, Castle."

"No problem."

"Say, Castle, since it seems like we have a few minutes before the others get here, I was wondering if you have any idea why my most promising detective is working herself into the ground and looking like she hasn't slept properly in a week?"

"You're talking about Kate, I assume," Castle responded with assumed blandness, trying to school his heart into not reacting at the mention of her.

"Yes. I only ask because things seemed to change right around when she passed along your message about scheduling this poker night and from then on, she's been working longer hours than ever and looking grim, to say the least. So I'm guessing you were one of the last people to see her when she was doing okay and now she's not so I wondered if you have any idea what upset her. Beckett's a tough one so it has to be something serious. I haven't said anything to her yet-she hasn't done anything to make it officially my business—but I thought I'd ask you since as a friend, she's more likely to have said something to you."

"No, I have no idea," Castle answered distractedly and was saved by the sound of a knock on the door heralding the arrival of Judge Markway, followed shortly afterward by Bob Weldon, completing their little group.

Castle greeted them both and did his best to appear his usual self, taking part in the raillery as they settled in to play poker, but he was distracted and it showed in his game. For the first time in a while, he made careless mistakes and played passively so the night ended with him on the losing end, much to Judge Markway's and Roy's unconcealed triumph.

He saw them out on a tide of teasing banter, assuring them that he would have his revenge next time, the usual sort of remark, and then cleared up the room, glad for the mindless task as his brain churned.

Kate was upset and it appeared to have started right after he'd seen her. He might be being entirely self-centered and egotistical but the timing of it, as Montgomery had noted, was a little too coincidental for his taste. And if Kate really was the self-centered, career-focused woman she had made herself out to be, what was upsetting her? What was there to upset her in turning him down? Something wasn't right with this picture.

It was niggling at him, his brain worrying at it, even though he tried to fight it. He didn't want to wonder, didn't want to be drawn back into his preoccupation with her, and yet, Montgomery's words lingered, nagged.

Images, memories, of Kate flashed through his mind, almost in spite of himself. The first time they'd met, the suppressed emotion in her face, the tears glistening in her eyes as she talked about her parents. The look on Kate's face when she had mentioned Thanksgiving to Alexis that day in the Park, the flash of dismay that she might have brought up a painful subject for Alexis. The look on Kate's face when she told Alexis about what happened to her mom. Her words later when he had thanked her for her candor: _I don't know why you should thank me for making her cry and possibly traumatizing her._

And he remembered suddenly that she hadn't met his eyes, had not looked at him at all as she made that comment about not wanting to get involved with someone with a kid. And her tone had been unnaturally stiff—hadn't it?

She'd been lying. Or at least, was being less than candid, misrepresenting things in some way. He was suddenly certain of that. Mostly certain.

It might not mean anything, he tried to caution his unruly heart, calming it from bounding into hopeful life. She might still not want to be with him but he was suddenly sure that whatever her reason for turning him down, it wasn't because of Alexis, because she didn't want to get further involved with Alexis. He had reacted too fast, too viscerally, to the suggestion, primed as he was to be fearful of such a thing thanks to his experiences with Meredith but now, thinking about it with his head rather than his heart, he could see the picture didn't make sense, this story didn't make sense.

The Kate he had gotten to know felt deeply, was kind and compassionate. And she had always, always cared about Alexis's feelings, showed a concern for Alexis that was a major reason of why he trusted Kate with Alexis.

Unlike Meredith, not out of deliberate cruelty but simply because in Meredith's self-centered version of the world, it simply never occurred to her to wonder what effect her actions or her broken promises had on Alexis.

He might, he acknowledged to himself, be fooling himself again, not wanting to believe that he could be such a bad judge of character, that all his trust in Kate could be so misplaced. And yet… It really didn't fit. He didn't know why Kate had turned him down—she had said _I can't_ , not that she didn't want to, didn't like him in that way—but he didn't believe the reason she'd given him.

Nothing he had seen of Kate in the last few months indicated that she didn't like kids, was so unwilling to get close to a kid. She already had gotten close to Alexis and in the times she had needed to cancel plans because of work, she'd always made a point of asking him to apologize to Alexis too. And even in that evening when she had been preoccupied over the Alisha Mattheson case, she hadn't shown it when Alexis was around, had been careful to pay just as much attention to Alexis as she usually did. So no, he could not believe what she'd said.

Which meant, he really needed to talk to Kate again.

Part of him was yelling that he was being an idiot—what was he doing, not putting Kate out of his mind entirely and moving on? A woman who had already turned him down! He never pursued someone who didn't want to be pursued so why wasn't he giving up on Kate?

Maybe it was just the mystery of it. He never did like to leave a mystery unsolved. And this one… seemed important. (Oh, who was he kidding, Kate was important. Still. In spite of everything.) He could not simply give up on the hope of what he and Kate could be, not without knowing the reason why.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Kate has a lot to think about…

Thank you (for not killing me) to all readers and reviewers.


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: I can only say that I do not know how to write about casework so I think that part of this chapter is mostly rubbish but I hope you will forgive me for it considering what happens at the end.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 22_

Kate wasn't expecting to have a good day—she wasn't sure she ever expected to have a good day and certainly not lately—but even so, her day had just gotten exponentially worse. A young woman had been brought to the hospital but had died shortly after getting there and the initial autopsy had revealed that she'd been poisoned which had called the cops—her—in. Another day, another case, but the first indication she had that this wasn't going to be any like any other homicide was that when she and Hassan traced the woman's steps back to the little coffee shop where the woman had initially collapsed, they learned from one of the store employees that the woman—Stacy Kirkpatrick—was a regular and she was a regular who was usually not alone but accompanied by a kid. A little boy. A little boy who was, it appeared, now missing because in the commotion that ensued when Stacy had first collapsed in the coffee shop, no one appeared to have noticed what happened to him.

A kid. A missing, possibly kidnapped kid.

The store employee described the boy as young, around 5 was her rough guess, with brown hair and blue eyes. Oh god, a little boy. A little boy not that much younger than Alexis, she couldn't help but think.

She turned to Hassan, who was tenser than she'd ever seen him, as he barked orders at the uniforms and then glanced at her, tersely ordering her to call the Captain and give him the head's up. She nodded; she'd expected he would, as the senior detective, but right now, she guessed there would be other, more pressing matters.

She stepped aside and called Montgomery.

"Yes, Beckett," he answered crisply.

"Sir, we've got a twist in the case. It turns out the vic was with a kid who's missing so this seems like a possible abduc—"

"I'll call the Feds," he interrupted before she even finished the word.

"Yes, sir. We'll be finishing the canvass."

She ended the call without a goodbye, knowing Montgomery didn't expect one. "Captain's calling in the Feds," she informed Hassan.

"Good. Beckett, you stay here, finish talking to everyone, see what you can find out about the kid. I'm going to head to the vic's apartment, try to find out more about her life and who the kid was."

She nodded. The kid was the priority now; the victim took the backburner, had to. And it did seem as if finding the kid would lead to the killer as it was.

Kate returned to talking to the witnesses, most of whom had been preoccupied and not noticing much of anything in that myopic way so many New Yorkers displayed, but then finally, she found one witness who was different, had noticed more. "I heard her call the boy Trevor," the man offered.

Trevor. She sent a quick text to both Hassan and Captain Montgomery with that information. A first name alone wasn't enough to get them the boy's identity but it was a start.

She gave the man an encouraging look. "Okay, did you see where the boy went? Did you see him leave the coffee shop or talk to anyone?"

The man thought and then, "Actually, yeah, before, the girl was talking to another woman, older. And the other woman might have said something to the boy too."

"Can you describe this woman?"

The man's eyes went somewhat distant as he thought for a moment. "She was older, maybe 40-ish, light brown hair. I think she was wearing jeans and, oh, a black jacket."

"Did it seem like she knew the victim well? Were they friends, do you think?" Kate prompted.

"They weren't complete strangers, seemed to know each other a little," the man recalled. "I don't know, it's hard to say."

Yes, she supposed it would be. "Still, you've been very helpful. Thank you." Kate unbent into the briefest smile. It wasn't a lot of information but it gave them something to follow up on.

"Thanks. I'm a writer, well, a reporter, so I like to think I'm observant."

He was a writer. Kate forcibly controlled the urge to flinch. Damn it, was everything going to remind her of Castle? She needed to stop this, focus on her work. There was a little boy's life at stake. A little boy, not that much younger than Alexis. (Oh god, that did not help.)

"Thanks again and here's my card so you can contact me if you remember anything more."

She turned away from him and moved on to the next person, the next potential witness.

Hassan was the one who found out the little boy's full name when he arrived at the victim's apartment. Her roommate was able to tell Hassan that the victim had worked as a nanny for the Adelson family, for their little boy, Trevor Adelson.

Trevor Adelson. They had a name, which kicked things up into even higher gear.

And just in time as that was when the Feds showed up at the coffee shop, a team of them led by two Special Agents, an older man and one who looked barely 30, good-looking in a rugged sort of way, light brown hair, broad-shouldered.

They collared a uniform to ask for the detective in charge at the scene but she forestalled them by going to them herself.

"Agents, I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I'm in charge here until my partner gets back."

The older of them shook her hand briskly. If he was surprised at her gender or her youth, he didn't show it. "FBI Special Agent Dan Ziegler. This is my partner, Agent Will Sorenson."

She shook Agent Sorenson's hand in turn, ignoring the little tingle of warmth when his hand clasped hers. She didn't have time for this. "Agent Sorenson," she greeted.

"Detective," he returned. His tone was business-like but even so, she caught the quick flash of appreciation, approval, in his eyes. And she couldn't help but notice that he was tall too, big and broad and—about the same height as Castle, a tiny voice in her mind inserted and she ignored it, along with the tug on her heart at the reminder of Castle.

"We just found out the name of the boy who's missing. Trevor Adelson, age 6," she told them, giving them a very quick run-down of the case, mentioning the older woman who had been seen talking to the victim and to Trevor.

The woman was not in the coffee shop now, which meant she must have left either before it had all started or during the commotion when Stacy collapsed, not sticking around to help or see what was going on. Which might or might not be suspicious. If she had been around to see Stacy collapse, most people would have lingered if only out of curiosity and the fact that this woman had appeared to be at least familiar with Stacy made it odder. An acquaintance had collapsed and the woman had just left? At the very least, she was another potential witness and possibly an important one, since she appeared to have been the only other person to have actually spoken to the victim.

"We need to find this woman," Agent Sorenson clipped out, nearly echoing her thoughts. She gave him a quick, startled look. So he wasn't only a pretty face. Not that she had expected he would be since he was a Special Agent after all.

"I've already got uniforms trying to track her down," she answered.

"Well, we've got more resources so we'll look too." He apparently sensed her slight stiffening at this and softened it by adding, briskly, "Teamwork. We need to pool resources."

All right, he wasn't wrong. Kate smoothed down her instinctively raised hackles. She knew, of course, that most cops did not exactly love the Feds, competition and overlapping turfs tending to raise tension, and she was beginning to see why that would be. But she pushed it aside. There was a bigger picture to worry about, the life of Trevor Adelson more important than any pissing contest between two law enforcement agencies.

Detective Hassan returned shortly afterwards, introducing himself to Agents Ziegler and Sorenson.

They returned to the precinct, the Feds promptly occupying one of the conference rooms as their territory, which drew some askance glances from the cops but no one commented. And to be fair, they did need a base of operations.

Both Hassan's and Montgomery's demeanors were slightly stiff but otherwise professionally courteous to the Feds—Feebies as she heard the other cops call them. But when it turned out one of the Fed agents was the one who came up with an idea to track down the woman, using the coffee shop records of their patrons that morning—assuming the woman had paid with a credit card—Kate decided she didn't care. It wasn't a guarantee but it was a shot, an avenue of investigation that gave them something. If they were helpful, she would have accepted help from the devil himself if it helped them bring Trevor Adelson back alive.

Going through the coffee shop receipts and trying to learn more about Stacy Kirkpatrick took some time but it was interrupted by a small commotion as a woman stormed into the bullpen, demanding, "Where is my son? Where's Trevor?"

Oh god, this must be Trevor's mom—well, his parents—as the woman who had demanded Trevor's location was immediately followed by a man who had the same demand of Agent Ziegler.

Agents Ziegler and Sorenson ushered Mr. and Mrs. Adelson into a conference room and Kate followed after a look from Captain Montgomery, to be back-up for the Agents, even if they were the ones taking point.

The Agents questioned Mr. and Mrs. Adelson about Stacy and Trevor. She'd worked for them for a little over a year, was a good nanny who got along well with Trevor. Mr. Adelson worked in finance, dealing with the stock market in Europe, so his workday usually started between 4 or 5 a.m. while Mrs. Adelson was a lawyer, whose day also started early. So Stacy was the one who took Trevor to school in the mornings, often stopping at the coffee shop to get breakfast for herself and Trevor along the way, and then picking Trevor up from school in the afternoons. On nice afternoons, she usually took Trevor to a playground after school. No, Stacy had never mentioned noticing anything or anyone strange, watching them perhaps.

At this point, Mrs. Adelson's voice rose with panic and Agent Sorenson stepped in, soothing her into some calm as he explained the next steps they would be taking. Refocused their minds on practical realities as he told them Agent Ziegler would accompany them back to their house along with a team of FBI agents who would set up a trace on their phone in case of a ransom request.

Mr. and Mrs. Adelson were ushered out of the precinct by Agent Ziegler while Agent Sorenson stayed behind in the precinct to coordinate with the cops, Kate assumed. She stepped into the break room to grab a quick cup of the disgusting sludge that served as coffee only to be joined a minute later by Agent Sorenson, returning from seeing Mr. and Mrs. Adelson to the elevator. He ran a hand down his face in a gesture of weariness and it occurred to Kate that for all his projected calm, he did care.

"You did well in there," she spoke up, "calming them down the way you did."

He blinked, looked a little startled. "Thanks, Beckett." He joined her by the coffee machine for his own cup, taking a small sip only to grimace at it. "Ugh, this is even worse than the coffee we get in our building," he commented.

"It has caffeine and it's hot, that's about all we can say for it," she returned in agreement. A shaft of sunlight from the window slanted across his face, momentarily illuminating his eyes, making him blink before he shifted out of the sun, and it was her turn to blink a little. He had blue eyes but they were the wrong shade of blue. (What the hell was she thinking? Since when was there a right or wrong shade when it came to eyes? It was nonsense. And yet… He had blue eyes but they were pale blue, not the deep cobalt of Castle's. They weren't the eyes she seemed to see every time she closed her eyes. Weren't the eyes she could almost swear were haunting her—which was a ridiculous thing to think, all the more so because said eyes belonged to a man who might well hate her right now, she reminded herself harshly.)

She shoved the thought of Castle aside and returned to the earlier subject, needing a distraction. "How do you do that, know what to say to parents in this situation?"

"It's not about having the right words," he answered, his tone measured, "it's about controlling the situation, controlling the emotions. Probably not that different from talking to families of homicide victims."

"Maybe not but in homicide, there's nothing left to hope for because death is final." So terribly final. She dealt with shock, despair, but the edge of frantic worry and corrosive fear was absent in homicide.

He gave her a quick, assessing glance and she knew something of her own experience must have bled into her tone but he didn't ask, didn't pry. "It takes walking a fine line between showing enough sympathy that people think you're on their side so they open up and keeping enough distance so you don't add to their emotions. So it's about control but also not forgetting the human element."

"That doesn't sound so different from homicide," she conceded. "It's still about listening to people, taking the time so they feel like telling what they might know."

"Right, you've got it, Beckett." He finished the coffee, making another face. "Back to work," he said briskly. "See you out there."

He strode out of the break room leaving her to finish her own coffee and rinse out the mug. It had been barely a minute or so of conversation but it still left her with the sense that she and Sorenson were somehow rather alike, could be friends, even. He seemed to face his work with much the same attitude that she did.

Agent Ziegler returned with some recent pictures of Trevor Adelson that he put up on the murder board alongside that of Stacy Kirkpatrick, reminding them of what was at stake. Kate stared at the picture for a moment, her heart clenching inside her chest. He was so young, just 6 years old. He wasn't much younger than Alexis, had the same childish roundedness to his cheeks and yes, he had blue eyes too. In the picture, Trevor was beaming with pride, an award ribbon for something stuck to his shirt, and a vivid memory of Alexis glowing after the praise she'd received for her little poetry recital flashed into Kate's mind, made her breath stutter.

Things picked up later that afternoon when they made a major breakthrough, managing to identify the woman who had spoken to Stacy in the coffee shop. She had, after all, used a credit card at the coffee shop and then the witness picked her photo out among a group and she was identified as Rebecca Cavenor. A mixed team of cops and Feds were sent to pick her up and bring her in for questioning while Kate and others were assigned to finding out everything they could about Rebecca Cavenor's background to help in the interrogation.

Rebecca Cavenor's story was simply that she didn't know the victim or Trevor at all, had only been exchanging small talk because she'd complimented the victim on a necklace she was wearing. So far, it held together but she did admit to leaving after seeing the victim collapse and didn't quite give a straight answer as to why. Of course, she could just be hiding some other secret, an affair or whatever, but the evasion struck an off note.

Kate was watching the interrogation from the observation room as she finished going through the material when she froze on one item in Rebecca Cavenor's past. Rebecca Cavenor had had a son, a son who had died two years ago but who would have been six if he had lived. A son who would, in other words, have been Trevor Adelson's age. It wasn't proof of anything but it made her instincts prick and she mentioned it to Detective Hassan and then to Captain Montgomery, who told her quietly, "Get in there."

That was all but it was enough.

Kate opened the door of the interrogation room after a quick, perfunctory knock and saw the flash of annoyance across Agent Ziegler's face and the surprise on Sorenson's face at the interruption but she stood her ground, politely but firmly requesting them to join her outside. They did, although neither of them made much of a pretense of hiding their displeasure. Montgomery unobtrusively joined them in the huddle outside the interrogation room as she told the agents what she'd found. Sorenson swore quietly under his breath.

"Let me in there with her. I can get it out of her," Kate volunteered. The Feds had tried with the bad-cop routine, as it were, and Rebecca Cavenor was being mostly uncommunicative.

Ziegler eyed her. "You, Detective? No offense but this is a kidnapping and we have jurisdiction."

"Beckett's good," Montgomery stepped in, backing her up. "Let her try, a bad cop, good cop thing, and if she doesn't make it, you can go in after her."

Agent Ziegler did not look thrilled but after a moment, he nodded. "All right, go for it."

She would get her chance. Kate felt a zip of adrenaline rush through her but tried to tamp it down, keep up her professionalism as she nodded crisply. "Thank you, sir."

Kate paused for a moment with her hand on the door knob, formulating her strategy, and then let out a breath as she pushed the door open. "Ms. Cavenor, I'm Detective Kate Beckett."

Ms. Cavenor eyed her dubiously. "You don't look old enough to be a detective."

Kate allowed herself a brief smile. She could work with that too. "I'm new."

Good to be underestimated. She could work with that and the woman to woman aspect of it too, she decided. "Do you have any kids, Ms. Cavenor?" she asked, keeping her voice easy, almost as if she were simply making pleasant small talk.

Something spasmed across the woman's features. "I used to," she admitted very quietly.

Kate let her voice soften further. "What happened?" she asked gently.

The sympathy, the softness, worked. Ms. Cavenor started to cry as she talked about her son, Brandon, who'd been killed in an accident when he was four, telling stories of how sweet he was, how handsome.

"You must miss him terribly," Kate sympathized.

Ms. Cavenor sniffed and nodded and started talking about what it was like to see little kids now, mentioning that she liked to spend time in playgrounds watching the other children.

Playgrounds. Stacy Kirkpatrick had often taken Trevor to a playground near his home after she picked him up from school. Kate turned to look at the mirror, jerking her head slightly, and heard a quiet knock on the mirror from the observation room, a signal that someone—she guessed it would be Detective Hassan—had heard and understood and made the same connection. Someone was going to go check it out.

Kate let Ms. Cavenor talk, encouraging her with sympathy, not entirely feigned since Kate couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a child the way Ms. Cavenor had. She calculated less than 5 minutes had passed since someone had gone to check out the playground connection but until they found something definite connecting Ms. Cavenor to the victim—and proving a lie about Ms. Cavenor's connection to Stacy—she had to play this out and wait. At least, Ms. Cavenor had clearly stopped viewing Kate as any sort of adversary, letting down her guard.

It took longer than Kate would have wanted but finally—and in all honesty, it didn't take that long—there was a knock on the door and Hassan poked his head in the room. "Beckett, a word."

"Excuse me," Kate excused herself and then, to finish the process of making Ms. Cavenor let down her guard, offered Ms. Cavenor a pack of tissues as she left.

She was met just outside the interrogation room by Hassan, Captain Montgomery, and Agents Ziegler and Sorenson.

"Beckett, you were right," Hassan told her briefly. "We found a witness at the playground who identified the victim and Ms. Cavenor and said she remembers seeing Ms. Cavenor talking to the victim more than once in the last few weeks."

"So she was lying," Kate finished, the picture starting to come into focus. Ms. Cavenor, a woman who had never gotten over the death of her son, finding a boy who had the same coloring and was the same age as her son in Trevor Adelson, striking up friendly conversation with Stacy at the playground. Stacy, all of 23, too young and naïve to think anything suspicious.

"We've got her now," Agent Ziegler agreed.

"We need to get her to break so she'll tell us where Trevor is," Agent Sorenson pointed out and then somewhat to Kate's surprise, turned to her. "She's lowered her guard around you, Beckett, you try first." Wow, a Fed stepping back to let a cop take point and a female cop at that. There was more to Sorenson than she'd thought.

She nodded crisply. "Thank you." She briefly caught Captain Montgomery's gaze, who nodded at her quickly. "Go get her."

This really was her chance. This was what she'd worked for, trained for. She swept back into the room, dropping into her seat across from Ms. Cavenor, who looked marginally calmer. No matter. Kate knew what she was doing now.

"That must have been terribly difficult, losing your son, and then seeing those other kids in the playground," she injected sympathy into her voice.

Ms. Cavenor let out a shuddering breath and nodded. "It was," she said very quietly. "It was so hard. Those children, strong and healthy, when my Brandon…" she trailed off on a shudder.

Kate whipped out one of the pictures of Trevor. "Is that why you took Trevor?" she snapped, her voice now hard.

Ms. Cavenor recoiled but didn't break. "What are you talking about?"

"Trevor Adelson, Ms. Cavenor," Kate clipped out. "We have witnesses who said you knew him from the playground and now he's gone." She paused and then added, deliberately, "He looks so much like your own son…"

"He is my son! He's mine now!" Ms. Cavenor abruptly exploded, the sad, reasonably composed woman vanishing, becoming a wild-eyed, obsessed fury in one shocking instant. "He's mine, he's mine! I saw him in that playground, day after day, always with that nanny and never with his own parents, so I decided to take him! Why shouldn't I, make up for the boy I lost! They were never with him and I never left my boy but I lost him anyway! "

End game. Kate surged to her feet, leaning over the table. "Where did you take Trevor? Tell me where he is."

The woman didn't answer, only went on with her wild justifications, and in a moment, Agents Ziegler and Sorenson had stormed in.

Agent Ziegler nodded to her. "We'll take it from here, Detective."

Sorenson ushered her out, adding, below his breath, "Nice one," before he closed the interrogation room door behind her.

And with that, her direct role in the case was done. She was left on the outside looking in, watching as Ziegler and Sorenson alternated between brow-beating, ordering, and finally pleading with Ms. Cavenor to tell them where she'd hidden Trevor. A joint FBI and NYPD team had already gone to Ms. Cavenor's apartment and, unsurprisingly, reported it clear, no signs of the boy or indications of where he was. But eventually, Ms. Cavenor broke and gave up an address, out on Long Island.

Immediately, Captain Montgomery swung into action to contact the local PD, who could be on the scene much faster, even as Agent Ziegler stormed out of the box and directed a team to hightail it out to pick Trevor up.

But somewhat to Kate's surprise, neither Agent made a move towards contacting the Adelsons yet and it took a moment before Kate realized why—of course, they would not contact the parents until Trevor was found and they could tell the parents of his condition. To tell them now, prematurely, and then if Trevor turned out to be… in bad condition, that would be another cruelty on top of the blows they had already suffered throughout the course of this agonizing day.

Montgomery and Agent Ziegler were both frozen on the phone with the Long Island PD, the tension climbing with every second, as they waited for the word on Trevor. Kate thought she'd forgotten how to breathe as she waited too, her eyes fixed on Montgomery.

Montgomery shot up out of his seat and then Kate swore she felt her knees go weak as she saw the spasm cross his face, his eyes briefly closing, as Agent Ziegler slammed his hand against the table, swearing. No, oh no, oh please no…

Agent Ziegler was the one who spoke, putting into words what they all feared and expected to hear. "They found him, in a metal storage shed out in the yard. He—he didn't make it."

No! Kate felt something like a sob or a cry build in her throat and she clamped her mouth shut and fled. She wouldn't, she couldn't break down like this where others could see her.

She rushed blindly away from the bullpen, finding the quiet back corner leading to the Storage Room and stopped there, her breath coming in hard and fast gasps, not from physical exertion so much as it was from trying to contain her emotions. Oh god, Trevor, that little boy. She could picture the boy's face from his picture, the beaming proud smile, those bright blue eyes. Pictured those same eyes blank and dulled in death. And choked on another strangled sob.

Alexis—she felt a sudden, irrational urge to see Alexis, check on the girl and make sure at least one kid was safe and well. Another little kid with bright blue eyes.

She couldn't do that; she doubted Castle would welcome contact from her now. ( _Oh, Castle…_ )

She pictured the way Castle looked at Alexis, the softness in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice. And her heart hurt all over again as she tried to imagine how Trevor's parents would be feeling.

If only they could have found him sooner, found him in time… If she could have only done something better, figured things out faster… If she hadn't taken so long to get Ms. Cavenor to lower her guard, if she could have broken Ms. Cavenor faster… If if if…

A surge of frustration and helpless anger built in her and she clenched her fist, turning to blindly slam it into the wall—only instead of the wall, her fist met flesh instead, smacking into a firm palm.

Kate snapped her eyes open to see Agent Sorenson who had blocked her punch with his hand. No doubt saving her from bloody knuckles at his own expense. She hadn't put all her strength into the punch, having no desire to break bones or the wall itself, but still, it had to have hurt.

She dropped her hand. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I just—"

"I know, don't worry about it, Beckett. I figured I could at least save your hand or the wall from getting cracked." His lips twisted. "Since clearly I haven't managed to save anyone else today."

She winced a little.

He saw it and went on, his tone changing, becoming quiet. "Beckett, this isn't on you, you know. You did everything you could have done; you were the one who figured out what Cavenor had done, got her to break. She's going away for a long time; she'll never hurt anyone again. And that's thanks to you. You're a good cop, Beckett. This wasn't your loss."

She could tell herself that, rationally, but it was hard to believe it. But he meant well. She met his pale blue eyes, concerned and reassuring.

And felt a sudden, desperate surge of longing, not for Sorenson, but for Castle, the thought breaking through all her (futile) attempts at not thinking about him. Yes, she wanted Castle. It was irrational—stupid even, since Castle had every reason not to want to see her again—but oh, she wanted to see Castle. Castle, who had made her smile on The Anniversary. Castle, whose hug had made her feel… warm, sheltered even, more than she had in years. Yes, if anyone could make her feel better today, she was suddenly sure it was him.

She managed the barest twitch of her lips. "Thanks, Sorenson. It's been nice working with you."

Something she couldn't read flickered across his face as he closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to meet hers, his expression different somehow. "Look, Beckett—Kate," he amended, "this isn't the perfect time for this, I know that, but with our jobs, there never is a perfect time," he said a little awkwardly and finished, "so I just want to say, I'd like to see you again."

A hysterical bubble of laughter rose in her throat and she swallowed it back. What was this, the month of asking Kate out? How had she gone nearly a year without so much as a blip on her love life's radar and now within the space of two weeks, two different, nice guys were asking her out?

For a second, she looked consideringly at Will Sorenson. He was objectively good-looking, tall, broad-shouldered, with clean-cut, strong features. He worked in law enforcement too so if anyone was going to understand about her work, it would be him.

At another time (in another life), she guessed she would have been attracted to him. Now, in this life, she looked at him and found herself thinking his eyes were the wrong shade of blue, his nose a little too perfectly straight, his jaw a little too square. He was handsome enough in a rugged sort of way. He was just… not Castle.

(What was she thinking? She had turned Castle down—but that didn't seem to matter to her emotions.)

"Look, Agent Sorenson—"

"Call me Will," he inserted into her hesitation.

"I'm flattered, Will," she added his first name, after the barest pause, "but I just don't think it's a good idea." _It's not you, it's me._ Stupid cliché and no one really believed that. She went on. "I'm working through some stuff right now so I just… trust me when I say you don't want someone like me in your life."

"Kate, I don't know what you're working through but I can make that decision for myself and I'm pretty sure that I _do_ want you in my life. I've watched you at work in a stressful situation so I think I've gotten to know you a little and well, I think we could be really great together."

 _I think we could be really great together._ His inadvertent echo of Castle's words made her stiffen and stare at him, hearing Castle's voice saying those same words, Castle's face swimming through her mind.

What had Sorenson just said, that he could decide for himself if he wanted her in his life? Decide for himself.

He had decided he wanted her in his life. But he didn't really know her at all. Not like Castle. Castle, who, as Lanie had pointed out, knew about her mom's murder, about her dad's troubles. Castle even knew what her job was like because he'd asked. And with all that, he had still decided that he wanted her, wanted her in his life and Alexis's life.

And she had rejected him. Made the unilateral decision for him that she wasn't enough, that he couldn't really want her in his life.

Oh god, what had she done?

"Kate?" She jerked back to reality to realize that in her absorption in her thoughts, she hadn't even registered Sorenson lifting a hand to brush a lock of hair away from her face. And he, unsurprisingly, had taken her allowance of the gesture as encouragement to shift closer. Of their own volition, her eyes flickered to his mouth.

She jerked her head back with enough force that her head met the wall behind her. "No, I can't," she blurted out. "I'm sorry."

To his credit, Sorenson immediately retreated. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Friends, at least?"

She managed a twitch of her lips into a wan approximation of a smile. "Friends." He was a nice guy, a good guy, one she could like. He just wasn't who she wanted.

And she needed to get out of the precinct. Her goodbyes to Sorenson and to the rest of the FBI team, at least the ones she had actually interacted with, were perfunctory at best and then she went straight to Montgomery's office, where he was sitting hunched over at his desk, staring broodingly at the picture of his family. "Sir?"

Montgomery started a little. "Beckett." His lips twisted a little. "Nice job today."

For once, she didn't thank him. "May I head out for the day?"

"Of course. The Feds'll take care of all the paperwork in this case since it's technically their case. In fact, Beckett, take the weekend off. You've been working too much and you're not due to be on call this weekend so don't come in until Monday morning. That's an order, Beckett."

"Yes, sir, thank you."

She had to check in with Detective Hassan for a quick rundown of the case and agreement on the final steps before turning everything over to the FBI to handle but that didn't take too long. And before much time had passed, Kate was on her way out of the precinct. Knowing who she was headed to, if not exactly what. She needed to see Castle, needed to talk to Castle.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: And exit Will Sorenson—somehow I don't imagine anyone will be sorry about that. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: A shorter chapter but I think you'll forgive me for it, considering what happens.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 23_

It was entirely possible that the trip to Castle's loft had never taken so long. It certainly felt that way in her impatience and accompanied by her vague, nebulous fears.

Fear that he wouldn't want to see her, wouldn't forgive her, wouldn't listen to her. Why should he listen to her now? He had put his emotions on the line—and she had thrown them back in his face. Kate felt suddenly sick with regret as she remembered the warm, hopeful look in his eyes and then the way his expression had changed, stiffened.

She had told herself she was pushing him away for his own good, for Alexis's own good, but who was she to make that decision for him? Castle might have impulsive tendencies but she knew his father side too well to think that he wouldn't have considered the impact on Alexis already. She didn't quite understand why or how but he had already trusted her with Alexis in so many ways, little and big, and he knew about her issues and her baggage, knew more than any of the other guys she'd attempted a relationship with aside from Royce. With a little more distance, with Lanie's words about Royce constantly niggling at the corner of her mind and with memories intruding that seemed to support Lanie's words, little as Kate wanted to admit it, she was starting to accept that Lanie might have been right about Royce. And in the end, the important thing was that for whatever reason, Royce had not wanted to be with her but Castle had already proven that he was different from Royce because he did want to be with her.

Maybe that was what made Castle different. He already knew her and he still wanted to be with her.

And she wanted to be with him. (Of course she wanted to be with him. Was there a sane woman in the world who wouldn't want to be with someone like Castle?)

She might still be afraid that she would end up not being enough but she wanted to try. As Lanie had said, relationships required making an effort and without trying, you would never know, would fail by default. And after the last two weeks, hell, the last _day_ , she knew she already cared too much about both Castle and Alexis to do that, to give them up without even trying. She hadn't meant to get so emotionally involved with them but somehow, without her even realizing it, she really had. So much so that the idea of getting through her days without them made her chest hurt with an almost physical ache.

She was in too deep with Castle to give him up, she knew that now. She might have tried but she couldn't seem to manage it, her own unruly emotions betraying her. She was in too deep with both Castle and Alexis, really. If she had been going to keep her distance enough to allow her to walk away without pain, well, she would have needed to do so months ago, December maybe. Before she had found a measure of comfort in seeing them on the Anniversary. Before she'd had so many dinners with them, before she'd started sending text messages back and forth with Castle and started to look forward to them so much. Before she'd really gotten to know the depths of his kindness or felt the warmth of his hug.

She had been a coward and she didn't want that, was suddenly sick of her own cowardice.

She was still afraid, terrified, that it wouldn't work out, afraid to hope that it would. But she abruptly found herself remembering something her mom had told her years ago, _my brave Katie-girl, you should never let fear hold you back from something you want._ What had her mom been talking about at the time? She'd forgotten. It had been so many years ago, more than 10 years ago now… No, wait, she thought she remembered now.

She had been in 7th grade, hadn't she, and she'd been fretting over auditions to be in the school play, morbidly terrified as only an adolescent girl could be that stage fright would lead to her making an idiot of herself in public. And at the time, she'd wanted to be in the play because the boy she'd had a crush on was going to be in it. What was his name—Eric, no, Eddie, yes, it had been Eddie, Eddie… Linkowsky… It was coming back to her now. Eddie had been in the 8th grade and to her 7th-grade eyes, had seemed like the pinnacle of coolness with his good looks and popularity. She couldn't really remember what he'd looked like now, just that she had thought him swoon-worthy.

It wasn't as if Kate was a natural actor at the best of times. She had some less-than-fond memories of the elementary school plays she'd been forced to be in, but then in 7th grade, she had decided she wanted to be in the school play that year because she'd thought it would help her be noticed by Eddie, who, as a lofty 8th grader, hadn't deigned to pay attention to the lowly 7th graders. Her young self had been freaking out over the auditions, to the point that her mom had become concerned and come in to her room to talk to her. Yes, she remembered now, remembered the way her mom had touched her cheek and then lightly tugged on a lock of Kate's hair in one of her characteristic gestures, half-teasing and wholly loving.

 _Never let fear hold you back from something you want…_

Her younger self had almost talked herself out of auditioning at all in her fear of making a fool of herself in front of her classmates and the boy she had a crush on. And now, here she was again, about to give up without even trying because of fear related to a boy she had a crush on—except Castle was not a boy and he was more than just a crush.

Her mom had not wanted her to let fear hold her back. And she didn't want to let fear hold her back either, didn't want to be a coward any longer.

She thought about Castle, thought about the way he could make her smile, thought about the way he listened to her and looked at her as if she was amazing. She thought about the blue of his eyes, the warmth of his smile, the strength of his arms.

Yes, she wanted him, wanted to be with him, and she was going to try for what she wanted.

If he could forgive her, if he still wanted her. Oh please, let Castle still want her…

She finally reached Castle's loft but it wasn't until she was in the lobby of his building that it occurred to her how late it was and that he might not be home or might have other company over—or that she might not even be welcome anymore even if he was home. Her heart clenched with renewed nerves as she tried to steady her breathing.

Castle was a nice man, a kind man. He had laughed off the way she had ruined his jacket the first time they'd met and she'd been a complete stranger at the time. Even if he was angry with her, he wouldn't just slam the door in her face or something. She couldn't imagine that.

She hadn't planned what she was going to say—she was never very good with talking about what she felt as it was—but when Castle opened the door to her knock, whatever very vague plans she had formulated went straight out of her head, her mind going blank. He was dressed more casually than she was used to seeing him, wearing a t-shirt with jeans rather than his usual button-down. And she felt desire explode inside her like a bomb going off and leaving heat streaking through her veins at the sight of him, at the way the soft cotton outlined the breadth of his chest, the muscles of his arms. Oh god. He looked so strong and so… cozy was the only word her dazed, tired brain could think.

Surprise, not to say shock, flashed across his face. "Kate! What are you doing here?"

She didn't pause to register that the surprise wasn't followed by anger or upset or any negative emotion at all. All she remembered was that a little boy had died today because she and the Feds had been too late to save him and in all that, Castle was the person she wanted to see. And now he was here. Or she was here, whichever. And without stopping to think, she stepped forward into him, burying her face in the curve where his neck met his shoulder, her arms going around his waist. "Castle," was all she could think to say, his name mumbled into his shirt. "I just wanted to see you."

It didn't occur to her until later that she had never initiated a hug before or even that he had every reason to be angry at her, to reject her as she already had him. He stiffened at first with shock, his hands hanging useless by his side for just long enough that she became conscious of it. But before she could become aware of the awkwardness and step back, he softened, his arms closing around her. Castle's first instinct was kindness and he proved it by returning her embrace, offering her comfort, no questions asked.

The hug didn't last for long, just a few seconds really, but in that span, Kate felt as if something that had been wound up tight inside her for the last day, possibly the entire stretch of days since she'd seen him, had loosened.

The vague, insane thought that this was where she belonged flitted through her mind, barely on a conscious level, and then dissipated.

Kate stepped back, feeling her cheeks heat with belated self-consciousness. Oh god, what had she done, all but forced him into hugging her when he had no reason to like her very much right now? "I'm sorry," she blurted out. "I didn't mean to—I just… wanted to see you," she finally said, parroting her own words inanely.

He blinked, nonplussed for almost the first time in her memory, and studied her for a moment, a faint frown creasing his brow. "What happened, Kate? What's wrong?"

"I—I know we need to talk but, um, can I see Alexis first?" she ventured, not quite fluently.

She felt as if her lungs had seized in her chest as she waited for his response but then she relaxed, marginally, as he stepped back to let her in. "Alexis is asleep but you can look in on her if you want to," he answered, his tone and his look a little measured, assessing, but not cold or angry.

"Thanks," she murmured.

He followed as she made her quiet way upstairs, hovering behind her in the hall as she eased the door to Alexis's bedroom open and just peeped her head inside. She didn't linger for too long, just long enough to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness, make out the darker shadow of Alexis sleeping in her bed, a somewhat battered stuffed monkey tucked next to her, until she could hear the soft sound of Alexis's steady breaths. And felt a little lingering knot of tension, of nebulous worry, she hadn't been fully conscious of dissolve. Her little girl, safe and sound. Wait, what? When had she started to think of Alexis as being her little girl? Alexis wasn't hers, not in any way. At least not yet, a little voice in her mind inserted. _Oh crap, when had she gotten in so deep with this family?_

"That's Monkey Bunkey," came Castle's whisper behind her.

Kate started a little and turned to look at him. "What?" she asked, just remembering to keep her voice low.

He nodded towards the bed, indicating the stuffed monkey (or so Kate guessed, no great feat of deduction). "The monkey is called Monkey Bunkey."

"Oh right."

She carefully eased the door closed again and accompanied him back downstairs, sitting down with only the briefest hesitation on the couch.

"Alexis has had him since she was 2 and she named him Monkey Bunkey." He gave her a wry smile. "I have to admit that Alexis was not the most creatively-minded child then although I like to think she's improved. She used to take Monkey Bunkey everywhere, hence his dilapidated state. It's only in the last couple years that she's started to let Monkey Bunkey live in peace on her bed but even now, she doesn't like to sleep without him, insists on bringing him with her if we go anywhere overnight."

She released a little huff of laughter, as she knew he wanted, warmth flooding her chest as she realized that he was telling her this endearing but inconsequential story about Alexis's stuffed monkey to set her at ease. Because it was impossible to feel completely uncomfortable with a name like Monkey Bunkey floating in the air between them.

God, how could she possibly have rejected this man? (It occurred to Kate that Lanie had been right; she must have been temporarily insane to turn Castle down.) And why wasn't he angry at her after what she'd said, the way she'd turned him down?

"I'm so sorry, Castle," she blurted out abruptly. "I didn't mean what I said, about Alexis and not wanting to get involved with someone with a kid. That was, um… a lie," she admitted, not quite fluently but not about to soften what she had done.

She waited tensely but he didn't react anything like what she might have expected, predicted, he would. Surprised her, again, with his equanimity as he said simply, "I know."

She boggled at him. He what? How—was what why he wasn't angry at her? But… but how—when—she knew he'd been angry at her at first, still remembered the way his expression had shuttered, the coolness in his voice, when he said goodbye to her. "But—you—how—" she stuttered.

He didn't smile at her flusterment, only met her eyes, his own eyes clear and unshuttered now. And the right shade of blue. "It took me a little while but I like to think I'm not that bad a judge of character and I have gotten to know you in the past few months." He paused, his lips twisting a little. "I doubt this will surprise you but I've had my fair share of experience with women, including women who really didn't have any interest in kids and put themselves and their own careers first. And you didn't act like that, Kate, you never have. There's a reason I trust you with Alexis, a reason that Alexis likes you so much, so when I stopped and really thought about it, I couldn't believe what you'd said. It didn't fit with anything I knew about you. And I remembered that you didn't meet my eyes when you said it."

"Oh," was all she could say. Of course she hadn't been able to meet his eyes; she didn't think she was that good a liar and had enough respect for his insight to think he'd be able to see a lie in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

Now, the faintest of smiles tipped up the corners of his lips. "You already said that."

She choked on something that might have been a laugh if it had been allowed to grow up. How did he do that? It was amazing, the way he could make her laugh even when things still felt so fraught. And oh, that barely-there curve of his lips drew her attention to his mouth, did things to her. Made her want to taste his smile. She shifted closer to him on the couch, close enough that their knees were brushing.

But he shifted back in turn, not by much, but enough to put just the crucial inch of space between them again. Oh and that hurt, a lacerating sting she swore she felt down to the pit of her stomach.

Not that she deserved any better, a tiny voice in her mind spoke up.

But he must have seen something of her reaction on her face and spoke up. "Sorry. I don't mean—I just—I think we need to talk more, first, before, well, anything." He grimaced and ran a hand down his face. "Okay, that was not smooth," he muttered as an aside (and her heart twisted a little inside her because he really was so… adorable… in his uncertainty) before he fixed his eyes on her again. "Look, Kate, I'm a little confused," he admitted frankly. "I thought… if you're even half as attracted to me as I am to you…"

He trailed off, hesitated, and she flushed, a hot wash of heat flaring through her at his words, his confession. He'd never said in so many words that he was attracted to her—although she had sensed it—and god knows, she'd felt it, the sparks that crackled between them at every touch or just from his proximity.

"Castle…" she began, not quite sure what she meant to say, her voice sounding a little husky because her mouth was (already) dry from wanting.

"I'm not trying to pressure you into anything but it's like I said, I like you and I want to give this, us, a shot. You said you couldn't get involved with me but now you're here and… I don't know what you want."

Now was the time, her chance. God, she really wished she was better with words; some eloquence would be a big help. But eloquence was clearly beyond her so all she had was honesty. And finally, she found enough courage to say what she really wanted. "I want to give us a shot too."

She was rewarded by his smile, the elation that lit up his eyes, bright and warm and so inviting.

He reached out and took her hand in his large, warm one, sending sparks of heat cascading through her. She knew he felt it too because his lips parted slightly, his eyes falling to their joined hands and then returning to her face, focusing on her mouth.

She bit her lip involuntarily and his eyes darkened and then he blinked and seemed to forcibly drag his eyes away, dropping them to focus on their hands again.

"Okay, that's… amazing but can I ask… what made you run from this, from us, last time? I just want to know because… if it was something I did or said or… anything to make you run, I'm afraid it'll just happen again sometime and that won't do any of us any good."

There was just a hint of uncertainty tingeing his voice, flickering over his expression, but she recognized the traces of insecurity and momentarily froze. Oh. Oh god, he thought—he thought it might be about him. Somehow, stupidly, she hadn't considered that Castle had his own insecurities. But she'd been so preoccupied with her own issues that she hadn't stopped to consider how he might react. It helped somehow because her dismay and her concern for him overrode her usual reticence. "Oh Castle, no, it wasn't about you, it was me, all me. I… well, I panicked, I guess. I didn't think I could be good enough, not for you or for Alexis…"

He sucked in a breath, his hand tightening around hers. "Not good enough—Kate, there's no way you wouldn't be good enough for me and Alexis. You're…"

"I'm a mess, Castle," she inserted before he could finish. "I'm broken. I—I have issues and I don't have a good track record with relationships and I couldn't stand it if my issues broke us, if I dragged you and Alexis into my mess of a life."

"Kate, no," he contradicted, shifting closer to her and lifting his free hand to cup her cheek as he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers in a gesture that surprised her but was also amazingly comforting, precious. "You say you're broken but that's not the way I see it. You've been wounded and I can only imagine the grief you live with every day but Kate, what you're doing, the way you channel your grief into your work to help other people, that doesn't make you broken. It makes you extraordinary."

Extraordinary. There was that word again, the way he'd described her when he'd signed his book for her after passing the detectives' exam. Just like it had the first time, the word made something flutter in her chest, butterflies taking flight. She couldn't quite believe that she was extraordinary as he said but oh, she wanted to try, wanted to be the person he apparently thought she was.

And one benefit of their positions with their foreheads touching was that it was easy, so very easy, to tilt her head up and find his mouth with hers. The barest press of her lips against his, possibly the most innocent kiss she'd given a man in years, but that was only how it started. He wasn't slow to react, his hand sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair as he shifted the angle of his head and her lips parted for the stroke of his tongue. He was slow, deliberate, and thorough as he kissed her and _ohhh…_ Her mind went blank, her thoughts going fuzzy, except for the vague consciousness that if this was what it was like to kiss Richard Castle, then she really should have kissed him the first day they met, spent every day since then kissing him, and she wanted to spend every day from now on kissing him.

He drew back slowly and she distantly heard a faint sound of muted protest somewhere between a moan and a whimper and then blushed hotly as she realized it had come from her. _Holy shit._

Castle blinked rapidly, his eyes a little glazed, his breath coming fast and shallow. "Oh," he breathed and she felt warmth coiling in her chest as she realized that he too was trying to regain his bearings, just as affected by their kiss as she was, something dangerously close to tenderness mingling in with feminine triumph. That Richard Castle, reputed playboy who had, by his own admission, had his fair share of experience with women, could be so knocked off his game by her.

"After that, there's definitely something there, that's worth trying for."

She wasn't even sure why, maybe it was less about his words or even his tone than it was the beginnings of the smirk now tugging at his lips—yeah, that was the Castle she was more used to—but she let out a huff of laughter. And somehow she felt as if the laugh, this moment of humor, settled things somehow, restored the ease and, yes, the friendship between them even if it was obviously different, no longer platonic, now. They could still be them, still teasing, still enjoying each other's company. She tipped forward to rest her forehead briefly against his chest and only straightened up to meet his smiling eyes, although his expression otherwise remained relatively composed.

"You're right, Castle. This is worth trying for." She sobered, straightening up further. Talking about how she felt was not easy and talking about her weaknesses was a good way beyond that in difficulty but she did owe him more. "I'm sorry I ran. I just… I should warn you that I'm not the easiest person to get to know; I don't… I'm not good at talking about what's on my mind," she admitted, less than fluently. Even Lanie, her best friend, had to pry things out of her with a crowbar, practically. "I'm not good at relationships but I do want to try. I want to be better, with you," she added, managing a small smile. "If you're okay with dealing with my emotional baggage."

He tightened his grip on the hand he was still (somehow) holding. "Of course I'm okay with it. You—what I think we could have—are worth trying for. And Kate, you're not the only one with baggage, you know. I've been divorced and Meredith is her own brand of insane and that's something we can get into another time," he added as an aside before continuing, "I don't have the best track record with relationships either but as long as you want this, I'm willing to do what it takes to try and make this work because I think… I really think we could be something special."

He had such faith in her, in them, it was amazing. But looking at him, seeing the happy, hopeful light in his eyes, remembering the warmth of his embrace, with the taste of his kiss still lingering in her mouth, it was easier to believe in this new phase in their relationship, easier to believe in them.

She smiled. "I think so too," she breathed and then she leaned forward and kissed him again.

She felt his smile against her lips and then his smile faded, the tenor of the kiss changing, his mouth working over hers, hot and demanding and seductive. He released his grip on her hand in favor of sliding his arms around her waist, tugging her closer.

And she finally, finally gave in to the demands of her body and shifted, slinging her thigh over his legs until she was sitting in his lap. She felt his entire body jolt a little at the movement but he wasn't slow to take advantage, tightening his arms around her, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt and finding skin, setting off fireworks of sensation inside her body, and she gasped, her hips rolling instinctively.

"Castle," she managed to get out in something halfway between a gasp and a moan, "Bed. Please. Take me to bed."

He froze momentarily, breaking off the kiss to look at her. "Kate, you're sure?"

In answer, she kissed him again, catching his lower lip between her teeth for a moment, making him groan. After another deep, drugging kiss, he pulled back and shifted her off his lap so he could stand up and then take her hand with his, tugging her to her feet, kissing her again, briefly, once she was standing.

"Kate," he breathed against her lips, just her name, as if he wanted to make sure it was her or give her a last chance to back out.

And then he did what she asked and took her to bed.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I hope this lived up to expectations.

There will be an M-rated insert that will be posted separately. For those for whom smut is not your thing, rest assured you won't be missing any plot development if you skip the insert.

Thanks, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: In case anyone is interested and missed it, the M-rated insert between the last chapter and this one has been posted and is on my author page. And now, to return to the story….

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 24_

Castle thought he could happily spend the next year—possibly the rest of his life—in his bed as long as Kate Beckett stayed in it with him, her lithe body tucked against his. They were skin to skin, the lengths of their bodies flush against each other—yeah, being here like this with Kate might just be the best thing ever.

She was incredible and if he'd thought she was hot before, well, now he knew exactly how hot and sexy she was. Just the thought of how open and generous she was in her passion, how responsive, had a little flicker of anticipation coming to life inside him, even though he was still very much sated.

He was pleasantly surprised, too, at how much Kate welcomed this sort of physical closeness, not for passion, but just to stay close. She shifted a little, pillowing her head on the hollow of his shoulder, and he adjusted his arm around her more comfortably. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been with a woman who was so willing to cuddle. Gina certainly hadn't been—but he cut off the thought. Why think about any other woman when he was lying in his bed with the one he wanted?

His bed in his home—he rolled the words around in his mind, half-expecting to feel a little flutter of nerves or regret or something—but no, nothing came. He'd never allowed any woman besides Meredith into this bed—and yeah, his allowing Meredith back into his bed at all was high up there on the list of stupid decisions he'd made in his life but that aside, Meredith was of course different. And now, there was Kate. He hadn't consciously decided that he was okay with Kate being in his bed, hadn't exactly had the higher brain power to make such a decision at the time, but now that he thought about it, it felt… amazingly right. Of course Kate would be the only woman he trusted enough to have in his bed, in his home, just as she was the only woman he trusted so much with Alexis.

Some strands of her hair were tickling his nose and he shifted his head a little to rest his cheek against her hair. A faint fragrance was teasing his nostrils, something light and sort of fruity. He tried to tease the scent out—from Kate's shampoo, he guessed—now what was it? It made him think of summer—cherries, that was it. And underlying it was a hint of vanilla. But mostly cherries—Kate smelled of cherries. One mystery solved.

Speaking of mysteries… He knew it was late and he suspected Kate was tired and needed sleep but she wasn't asleep yet and it was only now, his brain beginning to clear from the fog of lust, that it occurred to him that what Kate had told him earlier had really only been half the story. She hadn't explained what had happened today, specifically—well, yesterday, he corrected himself since it was past midnight now—that had made her come to the loft, come to him, the way she had.

It had been a shock, Kate showing up unannounced at his door at 10 o'clock at night. It was not, perhaps, the most unlikely occurrence he could name but with his imagination, an alien invasion wasn't out of the realm of his imaginings. But she was certainly not among the first 10 people he would have predicted might knock on his door at such an hour.

He hadn't expected she would really contact him at all, would wait for him to contact her because of Alexis. And he hadn't decided how or when to contact her himself.

But then, before he had reached any decisions, there she had been, looking tired and there had been something that looked like… desolation in her eyes so that if he'd harbored any lingering anger at her, he knew it would have been forgotten right then anyway. And then she had simply walked straight into him, sought his embrace, in a way he would never have expected from her. She had wanted to see him, she had said—and she'd wanted to look in on Alexis. (Yeah, with that, even if he hadn't already figured out that Kate had not meant what she said about not wanting to get involved with him because of Alexis, he would have known she was not being truthful. But what had struck him at that moment was that Kate wasn't hiding her vulnerability, looked as open as he had ever seen her.)

She hadn't told him what had happened today to make her come here, what had made her want to check on Alexis. He could suspect—a bad case involving a little kid—but he wanted to know.

"Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask, what happened today—yesterday—to make you come here?"

Pressed against him as she was, he felt the immediate increase in tension in her body at his question. She was silent for long enough that he was beginning to wonder if she wasn't going to answer but then, she turned her head, tucking her face against his chest, as she gave a small shuddering sigh. "He died, Castle," she answered, her voice very quiet, barely audible even to him.

Castle obviously had no idea who this 'he' was but the sadness, the regret, in her voice was clear and he reacted instinctively, tightening his arms around her and turning to press a kiss to her hair. "What happened?" he asked again, his voice as gentle as he could make it.

Kate sighed again and after a moment, started the story, her voice quiet and controlled. "We were called into a case because a girl died and her autopsy showed she'd been poisoned. It turned out she'd been a nanny to a little boy, six years old, and he had gone missing in the commotion when the girl collapsed in a coffee shop. A presumed kidnapping."

In spite of himself, Castle stiffened at the word, quite possibly one of his worst fears with the exception of, well, anything else that could happen to Alexis.

And oh god. A six-year-old boy—that had to be the 'he' who had died. Oh god oh god, Castle really didn't like where this story was headed.

"We tracked down a woman who had been one of the last people to talk to the victim and… it turned out the woman once had a son of her own, who would have been six this year except her son died a couple years ago in an accident. It… I think it drove her insane," Kate said, compassion in her voice.

Oh Kate, still able to feel compassion for a woman who, Castle guessed, must have orchestrated the murder of the nanny in order to kidnap the boy. He shuddered a little. The whole thing was such a tragedy. He couldn't imagine losing a child—but then to kill in order to kidnap another child in what he imagined was some twisted, crazed way of replacing the son she'd lost.

"I got her to break but by the time we found the boy… it was too late."

"She didn't hurt the boy, did she?" he ventured, some morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

"No, it didn't seem like it." Kate gave another shuddering breath. "He didn't have any visible injuries from what I heard. We don't know for sure what happened to him, just that when the local cops found him in a storage shed, it was already too late. Hassan… he mentioned to me that it looked like she'd meant for him to be okay, just locked up, because there was a blanket and some snacks and water but… I don't know. I just know that a six-year-old boy is dead because I—we—weren't fast enough."

Oh god. Castle gathered Kate in yet more tightly, his chest aching with an almost physical pain, at the tragic story but also for Kate, for her grief and her guilt. He understood it—god knows he understood it, would never forget the time he hadn't been able to find Alexis in the mall or when Meredith had taken Alexis to Paris—he tamped down the flare of anger he still felt at the memory.

But even as he pressed gentle, soothing kisses to Kate's hair and tried to impart what comfort he could by holding her, he found his brain working, going over the story. Not only because he didn't like unsolved mysteries but because he wondered if there was something, some way, to make Kate feel better. Kate wasn't the sort of person to appreciate or believe unthinking, comforting platitudes; no, his Kate was a cop who relied on evidence, would want reassurance based on facts.

Wait, what? His Kate? She wasn't his—but oh, he wanted her to be. Just as he wanted to be hers. (Oh god, he had it so bad, falling hard and fast and deeper than he ever had for a woman before. It was a little—a lot—terrifying. But every instinct he had was telling him that Kate was different, special.)

And everything in him wanted to make her feel better. Wanted to eradicate the self-reproach in her voice. She was a cop and she really cared. He might not ever have seen Kate on duty but he didn't need to have seen it to know that there was simply no way that Kate, as driven, as intense, as she was, wouldn't have done all that was humanly possible to save this little boy's life.

So what had happened to the little boy? No visible injuries, Kate had said. And the woman, the kidnapper, if she'd been trying to replace her son, would not have wanted to hurt the boy, hadn't from the sounds of it. So why—how—had the boy ended up dead? Locked in a storage shed.

Wait.

"Kate, what kind of storage shed was it?"

Kate sniffed a little and lifted her head to look at him, distracted and confused by his seemingly random question. "What? What does it matter?" There was a faint tinge of burgeoning irritation in her voice.

He tried not to wince. "I'm not trying to be—I just want to know, was the storage shed he was locked in made out of metal?"

He swore he felt her frown. "Yes, so what?"

"Because that would explain why the boy died. Heatstroke."

"Heatstroke?" Kate repeated, still sounding confused but no longer irritated. "But it wasn't even hot today."

"It doesn't need to have been hot," he explained. He had it—well, he was pretty sure he had it, considering all he knew was what Kate had told him. "I've read about it. It's the same thing as what happens when people accidentally leave kids locked in cars. I'm terrified of something similar happening to Alexis so I looked into it. If the shed was made out of metal, the air inside it would have heated up almost as quickly as it does inside a locked car and it doesn't need to be hot. Even on a 60 degree day, like today, as long as the sun is out, the temperature inside a locked car will climb to unsafe temperatures within 2 hours. And little kids' bodies can't regulate temperature as well as adult bodies can so it's more dangerous for little kids, who will get heatstroke faster than an adult would in the same situation."

"Two hours," she repeated slowly. "It took us about that much time just to identify the woman and then find her for questioning."

"So there was nothing you could have done, Kate," he said quietly. Even in a shed, the air would have heated up quickly, maybe not as fast as it would have in a car that was smaller, but still it wouldn't have taken more than a few hours. "What happened—it was a tragedy but it's because this woman made a terrible mistake. It's not on you, nothing about this is your fault."

"There was nothing I could have done," she breathed, her voice a little hollow, not quite convinced but he hoped that belief would come in time, and then released a trembling sort of sigh. "He was so young, Castle," she said in something approaching a whimper. "I saw his picture and he had blue eyes and… and I kept thinking that he's not that much younger than Alexis and…" her breath hitched again and he felt the back of his eyes prickle with unwanted tears at the aching sorrow in her voice, his imagining of all his worst fears over Alexis. But in spite of all the grief thickening her voice, he didn't feel any dampness against his chest. Kate wasn't crying. Wasn't allowing herself to cry? She never had allowed herself to cry when he could see it, he realized; he had seen tears in her eyes but she had never let them fall, had always clung to her self-control, even if it was by a thread. Did she ever allow anyone to see her cry? Somehow, he doubted it. But at least, she was talking to him.

"It was never so hard to compartmentalize before," she admitted, her voice so soft he almost had to strain to hear it, sounding almost abashed to be admitting such a thing.

His heart stuttered in his chest at the realization of all she was not quite saying. After such a tragic case, she had come here, had come to him for comfort, had needed to reassure herself of Alexis's safety. Because she cared that much about Alexis and, yes, about him too.

He drew back just enough to allow him to tip her chin up and bent to give her a brief, fierce kiss. "Do you have any idea what it means to me to know how much you care about my daughter?"

Kate tucked her face into his chest again. "Alexis makes it easy," she mumbled. It was… adorable, how Kate seemed almost bashful about this. And he'd never really thought that the words, adorable or bashful, would ever apply to Kate Beckett, but somehow, at least in this, they did. His heart melted in his chest, mingling in with happiness and poignant, tremulous hope. The one thing he had wanted most—and that had never seemed possible—was to find someone else who would care about Alexis the way he did, would look after her if anything ever happened to him, God forbid. And while he couldn't say that he had fallen for Kate because of the way she cared about Alexis, he couldn't deny the surge of emotion at the thought.

He bent and pressed a kiss to Kate's hair. "Still, thank you, Kate."

He heard a soft sniff come from the vicinity of his chest and ran a soothing hand down her hair as he went on holding her.

And he remembered what Kate had said earlier, that she wasn't good at talking about what was on her mind. He knew that already. Kate was reticent and more than that, she was independent, self-sufficient. But she had talked to him, admittedly more about the bare facts of what had happened and less about how she felt, but still, she had talked to him and she had sought him out for comfort. And that spoke volumes for how much this case had upset her and also how much she trusted him.

He didn't ask Kate anything more and it wasn't very long before he felt Kate's breathing becoming deep and even against his skin, her body becoming lax, and he realized she had fallen asleep. He could only imagine how tired she was, how long and draining her day must have been considering the exigencies she'd faced, and then, from what Roy had said, Kate had been putting in long hours for the last two weeks too.

Moving carefully, he tugged the covers up and shifted into a more comfortable position, although he left his arm around her shoulders, even though he suspected that if he fell asleep like this, he would wake up with a numb arm. Never mind, he wasn't about to disturb Kate by removing his arm.

He settled his head on his pillow and closed his eyes in turn.

* * *

Castle startled awake, feeling a spike of automatic alarm the way he often did when he awoke suddenly, dating back to when Alexis had been a baby and he'd trained himself to become instantly alert at the slightest sound from her, only to relax as he registered that nothing was wrong.

He wasn't sure what had woken him at first but then he glanced beside him and realized that Kate had shifted, rolled onto her side in her sleep, and he guessed her movement had awoken him. He wasn't exactly accustomed to sharing a bed with someone to sleep. He'd only stayed over at Gina's place once, on a night when it had been arranged that Alexis would stay over with his mother. Other than that, he had always returned to the loft so he would be around for Alexis overnight. And aside from Gina, Meredith was the only woman he had actually slept beside in years.

The gray light of early morning was filtering in through his blinds and he carefully eased his arm out from beneath Kate's shoulders and quietly crept to the bathroom before returning to the bed to study Kate, taking advantage of her sleeping state to indulge his eyes. Was it creepy to watch her sleep? He guessed Kate would tease him that it was. But really, it wasn't his fault she was so gorgeous. He suspected he could probably spend years just looking at her face and not get enough of it. She was just so beautiful, especially now with her features relaxed in sleep, although it did mean that the depths of her green-gold eyes were hidden.

It was still early—not even 7 a.m. yet—but as he knew, that meant Alexis would probably wake up in little more than an hour. Alexis might like to sleep in a little on weekends but she was generally an early riser.

Which meant—he made a small face—he was going to need to wake Kate up. He was reluctant to do it since he could guess how tired she must be but they did need to talk about how to approach this first 'morning after.'

He leaned over Kate and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder, just above where the covers ended. "Kate," he whispered.

It didn't surprise him that Kate was not a deep sleeper and awoke immediately, her eyes fluttering open, as she turned onto her back and saw him. She didn't quite smile but her eyes brightened a little and his heart flipped in his chest. "Mm, hi," she breathed, her voice husky from disuse.

He sternly ignored the tug of desire urging him to kiss her. "Morning. Sorry to wake you but we need to talk."

He belatedly realized the ominous sound of those words when a frown creased her forehead and she lifted her head as she started to sit up. "About what?"

He winced, running a hand down his face. He did not know how to have this conversation since it had never been an issue before. "Sorry, that came out wrong. It's not—it's just… Alexis is going to be awake soon."

Comprehension flickered across her face. "Oh. Right." She pushed herself up and the unregenerate part of his brain couldn't help but be a little disappointed that she remembered to keep the covers tucked under her arms as she sat up. "Should I leave?" she ventured.

"No," he blurted out, too quickly, and then made a face. "I mean, that's up to you. Look, Kate, I'm not going to make you sneak out of here. I don't want to hide you from Alexis, even if it would really work. I just… don't know if this is how you want to tell Alexis about us," he finished awkwardly.

Kate nodded slowly. "Alexis is old enough to know what it means if she finds out I spent the night here."

He tried not to shudder. He might prefer to believe that Alexis was still so young and innocent as not to know anything at all about sex, believing that storks delivered babies or something like that, but he knew that wasn't true. "Yeah, she is." He paused. "It's never been an issue before, obviously, so I don't know how she'll react. I mean, I know she adores you but…"

"But it's not the same," Kate finished for him, her tone understanding. She thought about it for a moment, tugging her lower lip between her teeth in concentration, and he ignored the urge to kiss her lips, soothe her lower lip with his tongue. (He suspected he was never going to be able to so much as look at Kate again without wanting to kiss her.) And oh, how he adored how much she cared about Alexis, how thoughtful she was when it came to Alexis's feelings. He was used to being the only person, with the possible exception of his mother, who kept Alexis's well-being in mind but now, there was Kate too and he thought that might actually be the best, most amazing, thing about this new relationship.

"I think I'd better leave," she said slowly, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to make things awkward with Alexis first thing and anyway, I don't have anything with me."

"You don't have to, Kate. I don't want you to go." He paused. "But actually, I have an idea. Why don't you come back later, for brunch, and then spend the day with us? I mean, unless you have to work or something?"

"No, I don't have to work. Captain Montgomery gave me the weekend off so I'm pretty free except I'm meeting up with my dad for dinner tomorrow."

He tucked the mention of her dad away in his mind and smiled. "Well, Alexis and I are planning on going to the zoo this afternoon so why don't you come with us? Alexis would love it and, well, if you come over for brunch beforehand, we can talk to Alexis about us together, if you want. I'll make pancakes," he added cajolingly.

Her eyes brightened as she returned his smile. "Strawberry happy-face pancakes?"

He gaped at her. "How do you know about my strawberry happy-face pancakes?"

She laughed. "You mentioned them the night I came over on The—" she broke off, her expression changing, her smile fading, and then continued, "the night I came over to watch Alexis while you were on the Bobby Mann show."

He didn't remember mentioning the pancakes that night. What he did remember with sudden understanding was the significance of the day for her. That was the day her mom had died. And it occurred to him, with belated gratitude, how much it must have cost Kate to come here to babysit Alexis on what had to be the most painful day of the year for her. If he'd had any idea the significance of the day, he would probably not have asked her—but he hadn't known at the time and she had still agreed. "Oh," was all he could say, lamely. "I did?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You were trying to make Alexis feel better about you leaving."

Oh, that's right. He vaguely remembered now. Alexis had been pouting, as much as she ever really did, unhappy that he was going to be out, as she occasionally was. And strawberry happy-face pancakes were one of his go-to methods for cheering Alexis up. "Well, wouldn't you like to try my patented strawberry happy-face pancakes, since you've known about them for so long now?"

She smiled and oh, he could swear his heart skipped a beat at the way her eyes brightened, the happy green sparks in her eyes. God, she was gorgeous and it occurred to him that he didn't think he could ever get tired of seeing the way she lit up like this when she was pleased. "Yes, I'll come back and have pancakes with you and Alexis and yes, to spending the day with you too."

His face might have been in danger of splitting open from his grin. "Great!" He gave in to impulse and gave her a quick kiss—well, he intended for it to be quick but her lips parted at the first touch of his lips, the fingers of one hand coming up to tangle in his hair, and… um, the kiss ended up being not-so-brief and ended with both of their breaths coming fast as he attempted to remember what they'd been talking about. (He did spare a second to be glad he had brushed his teeth earlier but then even that was forgotten.)

"Um, right," he tried to cudgel his wits back into place. "So, pancakes?"

She smirked at him—yeah, she saw straight through his pathetic attempt at seeming to still be coherent. "Yes. What time do you usually eat brunch when you're cooking?"

"If you come back anytime after 10 a.m., that should work."

"Okay, I can do that."

He leaned in and kissed her again—but this time, he had learned his lesson (unfortunately) and aimed for her cheek instead, not quite at the corner of her lips, so the kiss really was brief. "And Kate? Thank you for understanding about Alexis."

He wasn't wild about essentially kicking Kate out of his bed and his home after the incredible night they'd just had, to say nothing of how he felt about her. He knew she was making it easier, for him and for Alexis, by volunteering to leave and that meant more to him than he knew how to express. (So much for being a writer.)

"Maybe I just want a little break before spending all day with you," she quipped lightly but the look in her eyes was anything but teasing.

But he obediently fell in with her humor, pretending offense. "Hey, I thought you _liked_ me, Beckett," he protested, injecting faux petulance into his voice.

"Eh, you're not that bad," she teased but then proceeded to bely the words by dropping a kiss on his cheek before nudging his arm. "Now, move so I can get out of bed."

He gave her a mock leer, waggling his eyebrows at her. "Oh, but I like having you in my bed."

She neatly ducked out from within the circle of his arm. "Too bad, Castle," she tossed out as she slid out of his bed.

Any response he might have made died on his lips along with just about every coherent thought in his brain as her deliciously naked body was revealed. _Holy crap…_ She was… she was… 'beautiful' didn't even come close to doing justice to her. She was breathtaking. And he really had not been able to fully appreciate the glories of her body earlier in his dim room but now in the morning sunlight…

She gave him a smirk. "Close your mouth, Castle."

He managed to close his mouth, helped by the fact that she had retrieved her clothes and vanished into the bathroom. Although he did immediately start wondering how and if he could persuade Kate to stay over tonight too and maybe tomorrow morning, she wouldn't need to leave at all. Mm, yeah, he liked that idea.

Castle pushed himself to his feet and shrugged into his robe before Kate emerged from his bathroom, once again fully dressed, or at least mostly, since she was still buttoning up her shirt. He suppressed a sigh at the skin being covered up even as he felt an entirely ridiculous little thrill at how at home in his bedroom it made her look.

She returned to the night stand on her side of the bed—wait, what? Her side? Already? (God, he really did have it bad.) And retrieved her necklace with her mother's ring on it, slipping it over her head.

That sobered him, the reminder of what she had lost, and he felt a pang of self-doubt as he wondered if he, with his past and his reputation, would really be good for her. But then it was forgotten as she stepped close to him, teasingly tugging him closer with the belt of his robe as she feathered her lips across his.

"So Castle, could a girl possibly get a cup of coffee for the road before leaving?"

"For you, Beckett, of course," he agreed, returning her smile and slipping his hand into hers to accompany her to the kitchen. They had some time before Alexis would likely wake up and it wasn't like he was eager for Kate to leave.

Once in the kitchen, he busied himself prepping his coffee machine to make coffee, a little amused at how carefully Kate observed him as he did so. Clearly, the preparation of coffee was serious business for Kate. And, he thought with a silly thrill, maybe she was storing it away in memory for future mornings here when she would be the one making coffee. He could only hope.

Once the coffee maker was set to percolate, he turned to rummage in the cabinet for a travel mug. He knew he had some but he didn't use them very often since he was usually able to finish his coffee while Alexis was eating her breakfast. He found a travel mug in the back of the cabinet and retrieved it with a ridiculous sense of triumph, turning around to see Kate's gaze fixed on—oh, she had been staring at his butt. Her eyes flickered up to meet his and he knew she knew he'd caught her ogling, but she managed (somehow) not to blush, only tilted her chin up as if daring him to call her out. Oh, such a typically Kate thing to do.

He sternly resisted the urge to preen but he did smirk. "Enjoying the view?" he teased, joining her on the other side of the kitchen island.

She feigned primness. She was adorable. "I'm observant. I'm a detective, after all, I'm supposed to observe."

He grinned at that. Hearing her announce her job title like that would never get old. "It is so cool that you're a cop."

She rolled her eyes, although she couldn't quite hide a small smile. "Yes, you've mentioned that once or twice or a thousand times."

"Did you think there was a chance I wouldn't find it amazing that you're a badass detective?"

"You wouldn't say that if you saw the amount of paperwork I have to do," she informed him dryly.

"No, I don't think there was ever a chance that I wouldn't think you're a badass," he contradicted, truthfully. He might not have seen her in action at work but what he had seen of her intensity and her drive, to say nothing of what she'd told him about her work, made that clear to him. She might tend to downplay what she did, how good she was, but he could read between the lines.

She only shook her head at him but couldn't help the curve of her lips and he gave into temptation and leaned in to taste her smile. The way she responded, the eagerness with which she welcomed the slick of his tongue into her mouth, was an aphrodisiac like no other. He sank into the kiss, lingering for long, drawn out moments. He thought fuzzily that he could happily spend all day kissing Kate and as it was, he had no idea how much time had passed until a sharp hissing sound from the coffee maker made them both start, breaking off the kiss.

The sound indicated that the coffee was just about ready but he couldn't help but heave a disgruntled sigh and glower at the coffee maker for the unwelcome interruption. Really?

The coffee maker, being inanimate, didn't respond to this display of petulance but Kate did, laughing softly and leaning in to give him a consolatory buss on the cheek. "Come on, Castle, I want my coffee."

Yeah, he couldn't even pretend to hold on to a bad mood after that. He smiled as he went around the kitchen island to pour two cups of coffee and then delivered Kate's mug to her, along with the variety of creamers and sweeteners at his disposal. He made a point of noting how she prepared her coffee before he doctored his to his taste.

He accompanied her to the door, their steps leisurely, as he slipped his arm around her waist and at the door, she turned easily within the circle of his arm to give him a kiss goodbye. He tightened his grip on her waist before she could step away. "I don't want you to leave." Ugh, he sounded petulant and that was not manly.

"It's for Alexis," she reminded him quietly. "I don't want to start our relationship by traumatizing her."

Our relationship. That had to be the most beautiful, amazing phrase in the history of the English language, he decided.

He kissed her again, couldn't help it. "See you in a few hours?"

"See you in a few hours," she confirmed, brushing a last kiss to his lips before she slipped out of his arms and out the door.

Leaving him to stare at his door for a moment, a silly smile on his face and warmth flooding his chest. Yeah, he was officially the luckiest man in the world.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Fair warning that there will be no update of this fic next week because I'll be out of town and without access to a computer.

But for those who might be interested, keep an eye out for a little treat that will be posted in the next couple days as an addendum to the M-rated insert, a continuation of Castle and Beckett's night.

Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests, whom I can't thank directly. I hope everyone who celebrates it has a very happy Thanksgiving.


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: For anyone who might be interested and missed it, an addition to the smutty interlude was posted separately and can be found on my profile. And now, the weekend continues, with lots more fluff. Enjoy.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 25_

Kate was smiling.

A faint, irrepressible smile played around her lips for the entire trip back to her apartment, a pleasant warmth settling in her chest. She was just… happy, she thought, with some surprise. Yes, she was happy. It was, sad to say, a somewhat unusual sensation but there it was. Even more surprising because yesterday—it had only been yesterday, hadn't it—had been one of the toughest days of work she'd had. But in spite of that, she felt good, her burdens lighter. And it wasn't even—or only—the effect of a night of great sex, she thought, her cheeks flushing a little. It was, well, everything else about the night, about being with Castle.

For the first time in she couldn't remember how long—no, the first time ever—she had talked about a tough case with someone else. Had someone else to turn to after a tough case. She'd never had that before and it helped, made things easier, in a way she'd never known it would. When Royce had been around as her mentor and friend, there had been a few bad days, all the more so because back then, as a rookie in training, she hadn't developed a lot of the thick skin that she had now. But she had never—would never have—admitted to Royce how difficult it really was. Royce was no more the sharing type than she was and as close as they had been, he had been careful to preserve some of the training officer-rookie distance between them. Partly, she knew, because it was part of his job as her training officer to toughen her up; no good training officer coddled a rookie. And she hadn't wanted coddling, always put up the tough, no-nonsense front at work because she had to.

Yesterday had been different, harder, because she'd never worked on a kidnapping before. She had encountered child homicide victims before and those were always bad but a kidnapping was worse. But then, she had turned to Castle. She knew herself too well to think that she would have told him about the case of her own volition but he had asked and, more importantly perhaps, he hadn't tried to pressure her into talking and that had somehow made it easier to tell him about it. And he had understood as she had expected he would; he was a father, he would understand the horror of an abduction but it was more than that, it was also Castle's innate empathy. He had understood and that… helped. It wasn't so much about his words of reassurance or even his insight into the probable cause of death, although that had helped expel most of the poison from the wound. It had been the strength of his arms around her, the care in his touch, the tenderness in his voice—it had made her feel as if she wasn't alone. It wasn't that she would not have been _able_ to cope alone—she could have, just as she always had before—but for the first time in years, she hadn't _needed_ to get through it alone. And that made all the difference.

So yes, she felt good.

It was sunny and shaping up to be a pleasant spring day—and she would be spending it with Castle and Alexis. And tonight—well, she would think about that later but felt heat creeping into her cheeks anyway.

She had the strange sensation of having returned from a trip when she stepped into her own apartment, even her own space feeling and looking a little off to her. Which was utterly ridiculous since it had barely been 24 hours.

She tried to shake it off and it mostly faded in the everyday routine as she brushed her teeth and then stepped into her shower.

But then showering brought back a whole host of memories. Not least because she was becoming aware of a few twinges in muscles that hadn't been used in a while but also… oh, Castle hadn't exactly left her unmarked. There were a couple telltale marks on her chest, on her collarbone and a little lower towards the swell of her breast, and a few faint traces of his touch on her hips and thighs.

But it wasn't only the visible reminders. It was, well, everything. She just felt different, her body felt different, as if her senses, her skin, had come alive after slumbering for years and now, she was very much a sensual creature in the most basic sense. And of course, there were the memories—she flushed—memories of the way he'd kissed her and touched her with his lips and his hands and his tongue and—she cut off that train of thought abruptly. No, no, now was not the time to get hot and bothered (again) at the memories, not when she would need to spend an entire day in Castle's company and would not be able to touch him freely, since Alexis would be around too.

Alexis. The reminder of the little girl brought her unruly senses back under control, sobered her a little at the reminder that there was someone else whose life would be affected by this new relationship. She knew Alexis liked her (surprising as that still sometimes was to her) and goodness knew, Kate was (almost) as besotted with Alexis as she was with the girl's father but she had no idea how to deal with a boyfriend's kid. She still didn't know much about kids or have much experience with them, Alexis aside, and while she had become friends with Alexis, surely it would change things to also be, um, dating the girl's father?

Castle might be sanguine about Alexis's reaction but Castle was an optimist by nature. And Kate was not. On the other hand, Kate guessed that Alexis was at least open to the idea of Kate dating Castle because she had asked about whether Kate had a boyfriend and why would Alexis have asked that if she wasn't at least curious if Kate would start dating Castle.

Ugh, she was overthinking things. And anyway, she and Alexis got along and whatever adjustments to their relationship they might need to make, she couldn't help but believe they could manage it. She already cared about Alexis to an (almost) frightening extent and it also helped that she knew Castle would be there, to make whatever assurances were necessary and to help her out when Kate's limited knowledge of children left her unsure of herself. It was an odd feeling, this sense of being able to rely on someone else to have her back, help her out, in anything outside of work (and sometimes even at work) but with Castle, it felt… right. She already trusted him and he had proven more than once that he could and would step up where Alexis was concerned, the way he had when Alexis had asked about her Christmas plans or when she had told Alexis about what happened to her mom. Kate had been on uncertain ground but Castle had stepped in to help. And Castle was a very good dad, possibly the best dad she'd ever seen if such a thing could be ranked, and she didn't doubt that he would put Alexis first.

Kate's mood didn't dim as she finished her shower and got dressed—smiling a little at herself for spending a few minutes dithering over what to wear in an attempt to look casual but still attractive (yes, she wanted to impress Castle), as if she was invited to spend a day at the zoo with a man and his kid every day. She smirked a little as she dug through her underwear drawer for the sexy pieces she didn't often wear because, well, now there was someone else who would get to see them. She settled on wearing jeans and a purple long-sleeve top that was sort of flirty and feminine, a style she didn't usually wear, but decided to go with today to suit her mood. It was a decision made easier by the fact that the top had a modest neckline—thanks to the need to conceal the telltale marks on her collarbone. She tucked her necklace with her mom's ring under her shirt and after a moment, slipped in some simple earrings too, an accessory she didn't usually wear at work but she wasn't on duty this weekend.

Once dressed, she made herself another cup of coffee. Although she couldn't help but note that her own coffee did not equal the coffee that Castle had made in his futuristic-looking coffee maker that she had no doubt had probably cost at least double what her own basic one had cost. At the very least, it proved that she and Castle were alike in how seriously they took their coffee, even if Castle had significantly more resources than she did to satisfy his coffee cravings.

For once, though, she didn't feel as if she really needed the caffeine boost. She might not have gotten the recommended eight hours (when did she ever?) but she felt remarkably well-rested, had slept well. Helped by Castle's insanely comfortable bed.

Speaking of his bed… Kate returned to her bedroom, tucking clean underwear and, after a moment, another shirt into her purse. Not that she was assuming or expecting that she would stay over at Castle's place again tonight—oh, who was she kidding, of course she was hoping to stay at the loft again. One night in Castle's bed had been enough to tell her that she could become almost as addicted to sleeping with Castle, in every sense, as she was to coffee.

On her way back to the kitchen, her gaze got snared by the shelf full of Castle's books, a little spurt of bemused laughter bubbling up inside her. Oh god, she had just slept with _Richard Castle_ , the Richard Castle of Page Six fame. Surreal thought.

She left ridiculously early to go back to the loft, opting to take the subway for once since she had plenty of time. She was surprised—and not entirely in a good way—at how eager she was to see Castle again especially since it had barely been a few hours since she'd said goodbye to him. This wasn't like her, being so… smitten with a man, wanting to spend so much time with him. She supposed this was the honeymoon period and anyway, she told herself, it was mostly just today, this weekend, when she was off duty and knew she could spend all day with the Castles without interruption. Tomorrow, she would have dinner with her dad and then of course, on Monday, it would be back to work for her, the clock striking midnight for Cinderella at the ball, as it were.

But today, she would spend with Castle and Alexis.

She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious as she greeted the doorman of Castle's building just hours after saying goodbye to him as she left but it was quickly forgotten as she knocked on Castle's door and heard the faint sound of running steps and was greeted by the smiling face of Alexis and the now-expected hug. "Kate, hi! Daddy said you'd be coming over!"

Kate couldn't help her smile as she returned Alexis's hug. "Good morning, Alexis. Did you sleep well?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh. How about you, Kate?"

Oh, right. Kate tried not to blush as she answered, "I slept fine, Alexis, thanks for asking."

She turned to Castle to see that he had clearly heard Alexis's question, some humor sparking in his eyes, even as a flash of desire crossed his face as he gave her outfit a quick once-over. He liked her shirt and her leather jacket. Good to know. She tried to moderate her smile and her tone so neither broadcast the fact that she'd spent the last night naked in his bed but wasn't sure how successful she was. An effort that was not made any easier by the way she felt her entire body flush with heat at the sight of him. (Holy crap, and she'd thought she'd been attracted to Castle before…) "Hey, Castle."

"Hi, Kate," he greeted, his tone just a touch huskier than usual, and she saw him dart a glance at Alexis, who thankfully appeared not to have noticed, and then hesitate almost imperceptibly as he reached her. She knew he was a little nonplussed as he wondered how to greet her in front of Alexis before settling on dropping a light kiss on her cheek, pausing just long enough to breathe, "You look great," in her ear.

Oh damn, she was a hard-nosed homicide detective, her knees really should not be feeling a little wobbly, her insides fluttering like this, just from his proximity and the quick whiff of his scent combined with his husky words. She hoped her reaction didn't show as she tried to sound entirely casual, focusing on Alexis, who was watching with wide, bright eyes. "So Alexis, what are we having for brunch?" She carefully did not look at Castle.

"Daddy said he's making strawberry happy-face pancakes!" Alexis announced happily. "They're my favorite. Do you like pancakes, Kate?"

"Yes, I do," Kate answered, truthfully enough, although she didn't bother to mention that she couldn't really remember the last time she'd actually eaten pancakes. She didn't usually have time for a sit-down breakfast and if she ate breakfast at all, it was usually on-the-go, in the form of a bear claw or the occasional donut (not to be a stereotypical cop) or muffin.

"Oh goody!" Alexis beamed, only to pout a little as she added, "But they're not ready yet."

Kate shot Castle a teasing look. "I think you'd better get cooking because Alexis and I are hungry."

"Yeah, Daddy, get cooking!" Alexis chimed in. "Kate's here now and 's not polite to make her wait."

Castle threw up his hands in exaggerated surrender. "Okay, okay, so bossy," he pretended to grumble as he retreated to the kitchen.

Alexis giggled and turned back to Kate. "Have you been really busy at work, Kate?"

"Yes, it's been busy," she answered briefly. She couldn't talk about the last case or mention its tragic results with Alexis around—god, was she really the right person to be around a little kid with her job involving so much death and darkness, she wondered not for the first time. She managed a smile as she deliberately changed the subject. "But I'd rather hear about what you've been doing, Alexis. I'm sure you've had a lot more fun than I have since I've had to do a lot of boring paperwork and things. Have you read any good books lately?"

As she'd expected, asking about books was a surefire distraction. Alexis beamed as she accompanied Kate to the table. "I just finished reading _Island of the Blue Dolphins_ and really liked it. It was so cool, how she taught herself to survive and live alone. Have you ever read it, Kate?"

"I did read it and I liked that book too," Kate agreed, smiling at the girl. "Which part did you like the best?"

Alexis's answer was enthusiastic, Kate finding that her admittedly dim memories of the book returned while listening to Alexis's words. She was conscious of Castle listening in as he puttered around in the kitchen, noted the occasional glances that he threw their way. His eyes snared hers and he smiled and she, annoyingly, felt herself flushing a little at the look in his eyes. He really needed to stop looking at her like that, as if she was doing something incredible, just by talking to Alexis.

Alexis's report on _Island of the Blue Dolphins_ wound down and then Alexis continued, "And I just started reading _The Hobbit_."

"Ah, a classic. Nice choice," Kate approved. "I loved that book." Although if she remembered correctly, she hadn't read it until junior high.

"Daddy said he loves it too. I haven't gotten very far yet but the dwarf names are so cool. And Daddy said that after I finish _The Hobbit_ , if I want to, this summer, he'll read _Lord of the Rings_ with me."

"That sounds like fun." Kate threw a teasing look at Castle. "Indoctrinating Alexis early into sci fi and fantasy, I see, Castle."

"A thorough education in such timeless literature is a requirement of the Castle household," he pontificated with mock hauteur, belied by the smirk tugging at his lips.

Kate laughed. "Oh, I'm sure. And I'm sure it'll be a terrible ordeal for you to have to read _Lord of the Rings_ again."

"What's 'doctrinating' mean, Kate?" Alexis piped up.

"Indoctrinate," Kate corrected, sounding the word out slowly, as she tried to think of how to answer this. "It means, um, to teach someone about certain ideas or beliefs, to influence them into a certain point of view."

"Indoctrinate," Alexis repeated carefully and then turned to Castle. "Is that what you're doing, Daddy, trying to indoctrinate me?"

Kate sternly suppressed a laugh as Castle threw her a beleaguered expression before looking at Alexis.

"Ah, not exactly, Alexis. Kate was joking. I'm only trying to introduce you to more good books that I think you might like," he answered seriously.

Fortunately, the answer satisfied Alexis and she beamed at him. "I like the books you pick out, Daddy. You have good taste in books."

"Thank you, pumpkin."

"What other books has your dad picked out for you to read?" Kate asked.

"The Narnia books," Alexis answered promptly. "We finished them all before Christmas."

"You did, huh? Which one was your favorite?"

Alexis scrunched up her face into a look of concentration as if the fate of the world depended on her answer. It was adorable and Kate bit back a smile. "The first one," the girl answered, "and the one about the horse."

"The first one," Kate repeated, turning to Castle. "Which one did she read first?"

He gave her a look of mock dismay. " _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ , of course. I'm a purist and I think the chronological reordering of the books was a big mistake."

Kate smiled. "Good answer. I thought it was so much more meaningful to read about the origins of Narnia after you had already gotten to know and care about the place."

He grinned at her. "I'm glad you agree. Otherwise I might have had to rethink our friendship," he quipped.

Kate managed a soft laugh, as she tried not to blush at the significant look he gave her. "That's your test for friendship?" Friendship—and more than that. But not in front of Alexis, at least not yet.

He pretended to think about it. "It's one of them," he joked before his tone changed. "The pancakes are just about ready so Alexis, will you set the table for us, please?" Alexis's cheerful assent overlapped with his additional question as he turned to Kate. "Kate, do you want coffee or we also have milk, orange juice, apple juice, and water, of course."

"I'll have coffee, thanks, Castle." She and Castle exchanged a private glimmer at the reminder of their first coffees from earlier. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

He considered for a moment and then relented. "You can carry the bowl of strawberries and the whip cream over to the table."

She smiled as she complied, really wishing she could touch him—how had she never realized that a man wearing an apron could be so sexy, although it might not be the apron so much as it was his rolled-up sleeves and bared arms because she really liked his arms—but resisted the temptation. She did allow her fingers to linger over his for a moment longer than necessary as she accepted her mug of coffee from him, taking a first sip to realize that he had already prepared it just the way she liked it. (He'd been paying attention that morning.) She shot him another smile of thanks.

And in another minute, Alexis was sliding into her usual seat at the table and Castle dramatically announced, "And now, ladies, I present strawberry happy-face pancakes for your delight," as he placed two plates in front of both Kate and Alexis.

Kate couldn't keep from laughing as she saw that Castle was not kidding when he called them happy-face pancakes because the pancakes really did have happy faces on them. Castle had used strawberry slices to make the eyes, nose, and smile and even created "hair" with a little fringe of whipped cream. It was ridiculous. And possibly the most adorable food item she'd ever seen.

Castle rejoined them with his own strawberry happy-face pancake and a small stack of additional pancakes. "Eat up, ladies. There are plenty of pancakes if you want them."

Alexis only waited for Castle to pick up his utensils before starting to eat and Kate took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed. Oohh… She'd never thought that pancakes were her favorite breakfast food but she might have to rethink her opinion on that because these pancakes were delicious. "Oh, these are great."

He smiled happily at her, allowing his fingers to brush over the back of her hand in a very quick, subtle caress. "I'm glad you like them, Kate."

For once, Alexis appeared to be more interested in food than she was in talking so her answers to Kate's questions about school were a little briefer than usual and somewhat distracted but brunch passed quickly as Alexis told Kate all about the things she'd been learning the last week with Castle proudly interjecting that Alexis had received an A on her vocabulary test. It was almost as if nothing had changed between her and Castle at all but every once in a while, her eyes would meet Castle's and his expression would change, soften, as he gave her a small, private look or she would smile at him, and feel her insides curl at the warmth in his answering smile.

It wasn't until they had all eaten their fill and Kate and Castle were just sipping their coffees that Castle shot Kate a significant look and Kate realized that now he was going to bring up their new relationship status with Alexis. She tensed a little in spite of herself as Castle began, casually enough, "Alexis, Kate and I want to talk to you about something."

Alexis looked from Castle to Kate with bright eyes. "Is it that Kate's going to be your girlfriend now?"

Castle coughed in surprise while Kate hid her own surprise, even as she felt herself flushing. Oh lord, she really was _Richard Castle's girlfriend_ now, wasn't she? "Ah, yeah, Alexis, I guess I am. Is that okay with you?" she ventured, not quite smoothly. She darted a glance at Castle to make sure she hadn't forestalled whatever answer he would give but he only gave her a warm look.

But Alexis eased her vague concerns with a beaming smile and vigorous nod. "Uh huh. You're cool and I like you!"

Kate couldn't help a small laugh at this endorsement, even though warmth flared in her chest at Alexis's approval. "Thank you, Alexis. I think you're cool too."

Castle had recovered some of his aplomb by now. "I'm glad you're okay with it, Alexis, but how did you guess?"

Alexis gave her dad a look that somehow managed to be both condescending and smug-and adorable. "Daddy, you kissed Kate when she arrived today and you've never done that before. And you guys have been smiling at each other all funny."

Kate sputtered a laugh—so much for their attempt at subtlety—while Castle yelped in exaggerated protest, "It was on the cheek! It was a friendly kiss."

"Good observation skills, Alexis," Kate praised, even if those observation skills had been used against her. "You could be a detective."

Alexis giggled. "Yeah, I could be a detective, just like you, Kate!"

Oh damn. She could swear her heart somehow managed to melt even as it stuttered in her chest. Had any little kid ever been pleased at the idea of being like Kate? Easy question, the answer was no; she'd never really known any little kids well enough to impress them.

"You're too smart for me, pumpkin," Castle pretended to grumble but he was smiling too widely for the words to seem even remotely like a complaint and Alexis laughed as she slipped out of her seat and went to lean her head against his shoulder.

"Silly Daddy." Alexis turned her smile to Kate. "Kate, can you really come with us to the zoo today? Daddy said you could."

"Your dad's right. My captain said I don't have to work this weekend and I haven't been to the zoo in ages."

"Yay! Tell Captain Montgomery we said thanks."

Kate only smiled noncommittally. She tried to imagine telling Montgomery that her, um, boyfriend and his daughter said thanks for giving her the weekend off—no, that would never happen.

Alexis didn't seem to notice, turning to Castle. "Can we leave now, Daddy, please?"

Castle laughed, reaching to grab Alexis's side as if to tickle her, making her shriek a little and dance away from him. "Not quite yet, we need to clean up after brunch first and you need to finish making your bed, little missy, and then we can go."

"Yes, Daddy."

Alexis flew upstairs and the moment she was gone, Castle stood and tugged Kate into his arms and kissed her.

He tasted like syrup and coffee and just _him_.

"Since I didn't get to kiss you properly earlier," he murmured as he drew back. Mm, well, she had no objection to that since kissing Castle was her new favorite thing to do.

"You might as well have since Alexis guessed anyway."

He made a small face but had to laugh. "What can I say, I told you she's a smarty pants and she loves having you around." He dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose before releasing her, heaving an exaggerated sigh of reluctance. "We'd better get ready because Alexis is impatient so she'll be back down any minute now."

She only laughed at his pretend gripe and with the two of them working in tandem, it didn't take long at all to clear the table and wrap up the remaining pancakes and strawberries.

As Castle had predicted, Alexis came running back downstairs in short order, looking as cute as a button, having put on a blue denim cap to match her jeans. "I made my bed, Daddy, so can we go now?"

"Just a minute, Impatient One," Castle grinned at his daughter, hurriedly grabbing a backpack and filling it with bottles of water, a couple juice boxes, and some snacks.

They were leaving the loft in the space of a couple minutes, only for Kate to have to keep from gaping once they reached the sidewalk to see a black town car waiting for them, a driver standing beside it. Alexis practically skipped towards the car, waving a greeting to the driver. "Hi, Frank!"

The driver smiled. "Hi, Miss Alexis, Mr. Castle."

Castle shook the driver's hand. "Hi, Frank, this is Kate Beckett."

"Miss Beckett," Frank nodded at her.

Kate smiled, trying to look as if she dealt with uniformed chauffeurs every day. "Hello."

Castle had a fancy car and a driver? She had, somehow, managed to let the thought of the gulf between her and Castle's incomes slip to the back of her mind because the loft, for all its size and luxury, was such a home but the car felt like a splash of cold water, reminding her. She was so out of her league here.

"Hey, you okay?" Castle leaned over to murmur in her ear.

She started a little, managing a small smile. "Do you use a car like this every day?"

"Oh, the car, I guess it is a little over the top," he shrugged. "Black Pawn pays for the car service. I don't usually use it for myself except for publicity events but I prefer it when Alexis and I go out because I feel like it's safer for her than taking taxis everywhere. We use a couple drivers and they all know us by now, like Frank."

She supposed that made sense. Castle might be rich but he wasn't generally pretentious about it. And if it was for Alexis's sake, she could understand it. But she still felt a little niggle of insecurity slither through her even as she tried to stomp it out. She let her fingers tangle with his on the seat between them as they were both distracted by Alexis, who was already planning ahead for which animals they would see in which order.

Going to the zoo with Castle and Alexis turned out to be the most fun Kate had had in years. Admittedly, there wasn't a lot of competition for that spot since her life in the last five years or so had not involved much fun at all but it didn't change the fact that visiting the zoo with the Castles was fun. It would have been hard to identify whether Castle or Alexis was the more excited by the different animals, although Castle did let Alexis take the lead as to where they went. Probably predictably, they started at the Children's Zoo section and then moved on to the Madagascar section. They were both delighted by the lemurs and Castle was fascinated by the tree boa, although Alexis made a face, saying that snakes were gross.

But it was when they reached the exhibit of bears that Kate was really surprised. Alexis tugged Castle by the hand to stand just by the fence and then looked up at him. "Ready, Daddy?"

"Ready," he agreed. And on some silent cue, they both raised their arms and roared.

The bear, patently unimpressed, blinked and turned his head away while Kate dissolved into laughter.

A woman standing next to her turned to Kate with a smile. "You have an adorable family."

Oh god. The commonplace words had her heart stuttering. "Oh, um, thank you but..." she faltered, the last word overlapped by the sound of a name being called and the woman only flashed Kate an absent smile before turning to wave and join her own companions and the words, 'we're not a family,' ended up fading on Kate's lips, only a breath escaping her. Which was maybe not the worst thing since even though it was _true_ , something about the words, _we're not a family_ , made her heart twist.

Alexis was all but hopping from one foot to another as she pulled Castle to look at another of the bears and at that one too, they raised their arms over their heads and roared.

Castle left her to it and stepped back to join Kate, who pulled herself together to raise a teasing eyebrow at him. "You roar?"

He lifted his shoulders with a little self-deprecating chuckle and oh jeez, how did he manage to look so adorably sheepish—or was that sheepishly adorable? She felt a ridiculous surge of affection for him, the wish to ruffle his hair like a little boy. "Ah, yeah, I might have started the roaring thing. The first time I brought Alexis here, when she was around three, I made a show of roaring at the bears and told her that it was how to say hello to the bears and she believed me." He looked over at Alexis, his expression becoming a little wistful. "I figure I only have another year or so before she becomes too grown up for it but for now she still indulges me because it's a tradition of ours."

She laughed and momentarily allowed herself to lean into his arm. "Nice, Dr. Dolittle."

He grinned at her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, kissing her hair. "Did you love those books too?"

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, although she hadn't thought about them in years.

Alexis came running back to them and although Kate prepared to slip out of Castle's arm, he only tightened his arm around her shoulders as he greeted Alexis. "Where to next, Alexis?"

Alexis didn't bat an eye at seeing her dad embracing Kate. "I want to go see the giraffes."

"Giraffes, it is," Castle agreed, tugging lightly on a lock of Alexis's hair. "Lead the way, oh captain, my captain."

Alexis threw him a salute at that and they followed her to go look at the giraffes, and this time, Kate was the one who stepped up beside Alexis to wax enthusiastic over the tall animals. She had a soft spot for the animals because when Kate had hit her gangly stage, someone had called her a giraffe and when the pre-teen Kate had cried about it at home, her mom had comforted her by telling the young Katie that she should take it as a compliment because giraffes were beautiful and graceful animals and Johanna was sure that her Katie was going to grow up to be just as beautiful and strong.

Afterwards, Alexis elected to go look at the lions and as naturally as if she did it every day, she slipped one hand into Kate's and her other hand into Castle's as they walked.

Kate rested her eyes on their joined hands as the girl jauntily swung their hands to and fro, emotion tugging at her heart as hazy memories of years ago when she had been younger than Alexis was now surfaced in her mind, of herself walking between her parents, hand in hand, the way her parents had teasingly lifted her right off the ground by her arms. If she tried, she could hear in her mind the well-remembered sound of her mom's laughter, her dad's voice as he counted out, "One, two, three, whee!" as she was lifted up.

The words she had been about to say just minutes ago returned to her mind, _we're not a family_. Maybe they weren't, not really, but she knew it was what they looked like. A family—what she had lost all those years ago but now, at that moment, feeling Alexis's small, warm hand in her own, hearing the affection in Castle's voice as he talked to Alexis about the African plains and the lions they were about to see, catching the warmth in Castle's smile as their eyes met over Alexis's head, she couldn't help but think that maybe, after all, she'd been wrong. Was going to be wrong. They might not be a family yet but maybe, they could become one.

She wanted it. Oh, she wanted it so much. She didn't know if she could, wasn't sure if she even knew how to be part of a real family anymore, but she wanted it. Maybe even as much as she wanted to be with Castle as a man, she wanted to become part of his family too.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: The weekend continues, with more fluff.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 26_

Alexis climbed into bed and Castle perched on the edge of her bed so he could face her, smoothing a hand down her hair.

"Did you have fun today, baby bird?"

Alexis's smile lit up the room as she nodded enthusiastically. "Uh huh. Today was super fun."

He smiled at that, couldn't help it. "I had lots of fun today too." He really had; it had been a near-idyllic day. He always loved going to the zoo but beyond that, it had been… nice and different to spend a day with not just Alexis but also with Kate. Not only because he enjoyed Kate's company but because he wasn't used to, well, sharing Alexis. It was foreign to him to have another adult around when he was with Alexis (his mother notwithstanding), but he found that he rather liked being able to share his amusement at Alexis's precocity or her childishness with someone else—with Kate, specifically. Or more prosaically, to have another adult who could accompany Alexis into the restroom. (Of course he knew, rationally, that Alexis was quite old enough to go to the bathroom on her own now but some lingering paranoid instinct in him made him dislike letting Alexis out of his sight in a public place, even to go to the bathroom.)

And then after the zoo, they had worked together to make homemade pizzas for dinner and that, too, had been fun, Kate's flashes of wit adding a new flavor to his customary interaction with Alexis.

He smoothed his expression into sobriety. He wasn't really nervous about it but he did want to ask. "You're really okay with Kate being my girlfriend now?" Of course Alexis had seemed generally unphased by the small embraces and touches he couldn't seem to resist giving Kate, even if he kept them as restrained as he could, and he did know Alexis liked Kate but he was no stranger to Alexis's politeness and ability to play along. So even though he didn't really doubt her sincerity, he wanted to make sure when it was only the two of them.

"Of course, Daddy. You know I like Kate." She paused, her little face becoming thoughtful. "She's not like Gina. She's more… real."

He feigned shock. "Gina's imaginary? Wow, no wonder it's so hard to ignore her."

Alexis huffed and gave him one of her adorable little scowls when he was being inappropriately facetious. "Daddy, don't be silly, you know that's not what I meant."

He obediently sobered. "What did you mean, Alexis?"

His daughter wrinkled up her nose in that way she had when she was concentrating. (God, she was so cute.) "Gina's nice and all, Daddy, but sometimes it seemed like…" she hesitated and he saw the uncertainty creeping into her expression.

"It seemed like what, sweetie?" he prompted, making his voice as gentle as he could.

"It seemed like she was trying too hard," Alexis finished, her hands fidgeting a little with the bed covers. She looked back up at him. "It's sort of like with the women that come up to you in playgrounds, you know, Daddy, being so nice to me so you'll like them."

He suppressed a frown. Out of the mouths of children… Gina had not spent a lot of time with Alexis when they'd been dating and while he knew Gina wasn't very comfortable around children, he had appreciated that she made an effort for Alexis. He hadn't realized that Alexis would see through it with such devastating clarity. But the reminder of how his past romances—or non-romances—had affected Alexis was a sobering reminder of just how careful he needed to be. He had failed Alexis already by not giving her a mother she could rely on. He needed to do better now.

Alexis brightened up. "Kate's not like that. She's real; she doesn't fake being nice to me." She sat up and tugged him closer and he obediently bent his head closer to her as she whispered in his ear, "I think Kate really likes you, Daddy."

Oh, this daughter of his… He kissed her forehead before he drew back to smile at her. "You do, huh? Well, I think I really like Kate too."

Alexis huffed a little. "That's obvious, Daddy."

He laughed. "Oh, is it?"

"Yeah. When you smile at Kate, you look… twitterpated, like in _Bambi_ ," she finished with some glee.

His kid cracked him up. She was also not wrong. "I'll give you twitterpated," he pretended to grumble and reached out to tickle her, making Alexis shriek with protesting laughter and squirm away from him, grabbing his hands.

She gave him one of her bossy frowns that never failed to amuse him, even as it gave him some occasional terrifying flashes of premonition about what she'd be like as a teenager. "Daddy, no tickling right before bedtime."

"All right, all right," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender.

Alexis nodded in stern approval. "Good. Now behave, Daddy."

His little task-master. "Yes, Alexis," he said with faux meekness.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Is Kate going to spend the night here?"

He froze and tried not to gape at his daughter. Uh, what? "Why would you ask that?" he asked carefully. He hoped Kate would stay and he had wanted to sound out Alexis's opinion but even so, her blurting out the question threw him off balance.

"Because Grams isn't here so you can't go out like when you were dating Gina."

He tried not to shudder at the matter-of-fact way in which his daughter revealed that she knew exactly what he did on his nights out. Ugh, he really wished she was still too young and too innocent to know anything at all about sex. "Uh, well, I haven't talked about it with Kate so I don't know if she'll stay," he ventured. "Would you be okay if she did?"

Alexis thought about it with all her characteristic seriousness. "Yes," she answered with reassuring decisiveness. "I like having Kate around. It was nice getting to have brunch with her too." She paused and then added, "Besides, if Kate's your girlfriend now, doesn't that mean you and Kate are going to be sexing it up?"

He choked on air and then coughed. "Wha-at?! Where did you hear something like that?" He knew even his mother would never use such a phrase in front of Alexis and he sure as hell never had.

"I heard some of the other kids in school talking," Alexis answered as airily as if she hadn't nearly given him a coronary. "It'll be like how Mommy still stays in your room when she visits."

He was beginning to think home-schooling had its merits. And now, he was being effectively (horrifyingly) punished for his, uh, lapses with Meredith. "Ah, well, now that Kate's my girlfriend, Mommy won't be staying in my room anymore." Ever again, he mentally promised himself, no matter what happened with Kate. (He ignored the twisting in his chest at the thought of this relationship with Kate possibly not lasting.) He hadn't slept with Meredith in more than a year now since her last visit here—just before the Paris escapade—and then when he and Alexis had visited California before Christmas, he'd been with Gina at the time and so obviously had not slept with Meredith then. But even so, if Alexis knew about it (how?), he couldn't keep doing it. And it wasn't as if he particularly liked himself after each of his lapses anyway.

Alexis accepted his assurance with equanimity, as if it didn't really affect her at all, so she was at least still innocent enough for that. Thankfully, since he honestly had no idea how he would even start to explain his falling back into bed with his ex-wife even though at this point, he didn't even particularly like Meredith anymore. And perhaps more thankfully, she didn't ask when Meredith would next by visiting. "Okay, Daddy."

He relaxed marginally. "So you'll be okay if Kate spends the night?"

"I already told you I would be, Daddy," Alexis answered with one of her 'silly Daddy' looks, and then went on with some diffidence, "I think having Kate around makes you happy and I want you to be happy."

His heart swelled with so much love he wondered how his chest could contain it. He ran a caressing hand down Alexis's bright hair. "Thank you, pumpkin."

"For what?"

He tugged her into a hug. "Oh, just for being you. You know you're the most important person in the world to me, right, Alexis?"

Alexis nodded against his chest. "I know, Daddy," she confirmed, enough certainty in her voice to ease any worries he might have.

He released her and she looked up at him. "If you want Kate to stay the night, you should ask her to stay."

He smiled. "I'll do that," he assured her, pausing to mentally thank Kate (again) for her tactful decision to leave this morning. On this side of this awkward conversation, he was even more glad that they hadn't just sprung a _fait accompli_ on Alexis. Alexis had been hurt too many times because of Meredith's propensity to put herself first and he never ever wanted Alexis to feel as if he was doing the same. It might be his personal life in question but Alexis had to come first. And as awkward as this might be, no matter what happened between him and Kate, he needed to remember how his personal life affected his little girl.

He stood up. "Okay, now it's bed time for you, baby bird."

"I know." She obediently wriggled down into her bed and he tucked her in, kissing her on the forehead.

"Good night, pumpkin, sleep tight."

She shut her eyes, a little yawn escaping her. "G'night, Daddy. Love you."

"Love you too."

He usually liked to linger for a few minutes to watch Alexis as she fell asleep. He treasured those quiet moments and anyway, he thought the little huffs of breath she released, the way she twitched as she fell asleep, were adorable. But tonight, he was too conscious of the fact that Kate was downstairs so he lingered for less than a minute, then closed Alexis's bedroom door quietly behind him before returning downstairs.

His eyes immediately went to the couch where Kate had been sitting, curled up on one end with Alexis sandwiched in between them as they watched some TV after dinner. He felt a sharp spike of disappointment when he didn't see her. Surely she wouldn't have left, not without saying goodbye.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and felt a little knot unravel inside him as his eyes found her. She hadn't left. She had only moved into the next room, appeared to be studying one of the sculptures on the bookshelf. His steps paused, his breath momentarily leaving him because, god, just the sight of her profile at this distance—she was so beautiful. She hadn't turned on the lights in the other room; enough light spilled in from the rest of the loft through the open shelves that it wasn't necessary but it still left her in partial shadows. As he had already noticed, Kate wasn't a fidgeter and there was a self-contained quality about her in her stillness. He might be being a little fanciful but it was as if her very posture in these still moments projected a sort of calm strength. _Here I stand, Kate Beckett, indomitable._

He stepped forward and she turned her head and smiled at him and everything in him seemed to leap in reaction, certainty settling inside him. Maybe it was a little crazy (or not at all) but somehow, that was when he knew. He was in love with her. Just seeing her smile at the sight of him meant more to him than a thousand other gestures from any other woman. And he knew he wanted to see this woman smile at him like this for the rest of his life.

After the happiest, best day he could remember having in a long time, he was sure that this relationship could really work in every way. He liked spending time with her; he sure as hell was physically attracted to her; and she got along well with Alexis. And he loved her.

He realized belatedly that he'd been frozen in place and must have been staring at her with an odd look on his face when her smile faded a little. "Is Alexis asleep?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty entering her voice.

He managed to force his feet into action again, joining her and slipping his arm around her as he brushed his lips to her cheek. "Yeah, she is. She said she had a lot of fun today."

Now her smile returned and he leaned in to taste her smile, loving the way she turned in his arms so she could slide her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

She drew back slowly, although she didn't go far, stayed close enough that their noses brushed, their breaths mingling. "I had a lot of fun today too," she admitted, her voice low.

"I'm glad," he murmured. They exchanged soft smiles and he went on, "Alexis said I should ask you to spend the night."

She made a sound that was halfway between a cough and a laugh, faint color tingeing her cheeks. "Yeah?" She shot him a teasing look from beneath her lashes. "So, is this you asking?"

He tilted his head, pursing his lips in mock thoughtfulness. "I'm considering it."

She scoffed, pretending to try to move away from him, but he tightened his arms around her. "Okay, okay, yes, I'm asking. After all, Alexis also said she liked having you around and I hate to disappoint her."

She laughed. "Oh, well, that works out because I'm only spending time with you so I can see Alexis."

He felt a surge of warmth in his chest mingling in with amusement. After years of women who tried to use Alexis as a means of getting to him, it was refreshing and kind of delightful that Kate would joke about doing the reverse. He waggled his brows at her. "That wasn't what you said last night."

She blushed and swatted at his shoulder. "Shut up, Castle."

He leaned in to kiss her again because she was adorable when she blushed and he couldn't resist. And he adored the way her whole body relaxed against him, the way she returned his kiss with so much warmth, the passion simmering underneath. He briefly considered trying to persuade her to go straight to bed even at this ridiculously early hour but discarded the idea. He could wait and simply cuddling together had its merits too. He drew back and dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. "You want to watch a movie, or something?"

She quirked her eyebrows at him teasingly. "Or something?"

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to just making out some more," he quipped.

She smirked. "We could always do both, make out while watching a movie."

"Multi-tasking, I like it."

She laughed and nudged him so they could turn to walk back to the other room, the cabinet that housed his DVD collection. "What do you feel like watching, Beckett?"

She pulled out a movie and he gaped at her. "You like _Forbidden Planet_?"

She grinned at his expression. "I love it."

"You are so hot," he blurted out.

She huffed a little laugh, even as her cheeks pinkened. "Just start the movie, Castle."

He obeyed before joining her on the couch, pleasantly surprised (and delighted) all over again at how readily Kate tucked herself against his side as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"Mm, you make a comfy pillow," she murmured.

"Thank you. Unless you're calling me fat, in which case I might need to take offense," he joked.

"Not fat, just well-padded," she drawled.

"Hey!"

She laughed and swatted at him lightly. "Settle down, Castle. You're jostling me."

He settled back into the couch cushion, brushing his lips against her hair, as the familiar opening narration of _Forbidden Planet_ began to play.

This was nice, felt amazingly… normal, easy. And it had only been a day. (That seemed almost impossible and yet it was true.) He was struck all over again at how very different Kate was from Gina and, well, every other woman he had ever been with pretty much. This relationship with her already felt more comfortable than any relationship he'd had since... Kyra—god, really? He hadn't even thought of Kyra Blaine in years but now it occurred to him that Kyra might have been the last girlfriend he'd had with whom he'd been able to relax so much.

Even during the good times with Meredith—and he was honest enough to admit there had been good times—Meredith had never been a restful companion. She had always been a whirlwind and he had liked it at the time, believed that her way of keeping herself at the center of his attention had to mean that he loved her.

And Gina—well, even after they had been dating for months, she had not been the comfortable, domestic type. For Gina, watching a movie meant going to a premiere, a red carpet event, the sort of thing only open to people with connections and/or money. This kind of movie night, completely informal and relaxed in his home, was not her style at all.

He glanced down at Kate, who had a faint smile curving her lips as she watched the movie and had curled her legs up on the couch to lounge more comfortably against him. He abruptly remembered the faint species of discomfiture he had sensed in her earlier that day when Kate had seen the car he had called for from the car service. He was relatively certain that Kate had come from a certain amount of money, had her roots in Manhattan; everything about her speech, her clothing, how well-read and cultured she was, spoke of a background of comfort, privilege. But she wasn't comfortable with his wealth, was certainly not interested in his money.

And maybe that, at a more basic level, was why he felt so confident in this relationship. Because he already knew that regardless of anything else, Kate was with him because she really liked _him_ , not his money or his fame or his connections or anything else.

"Hey, Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?"

She made a soft sound that was the beginnings of a laugh as she lifted her head to look at him. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes, I want to take you out. Come on, Kate, let me woo you," he added half cajolingly and half teasingly.

He was aiming to make her laugh but instead she sat up a little straighter, her face serious. "You know you don't have to do that, right? I'm not with you because you can take me out to fancy restaurants."

Oh damn, he tried to charm her and she utterly disarmed him with sincerity. "I know that. I told you I trusted you, didn't I? I want to take you out and treat you to a nice dinner. As much as l love spending time with Alexis, I'd like to have you all to myself for one evening."

"Well, if you insist, I suppose I can endure being wined and dined by an attractive man," she pretended to sigh.

"Attractive," he huffed in mock offense. "Excuse me, the proper adjective is ruggedly handsome, thank you very much."

Now she laughed. "I think the proper adjective for you is vain."

He pulled a face and made a show of grumbling and she smirked before leaning in to feather her lips against his jaw, making it impossible for him to even keep up the pretense of annoyance.

She nestled her head against his shoulder again as they returned their attention to the movie.

 _Forbidden Planet_ was, of course, one of his favorite movies but for once, he found it hard to concentrate on it, his attention easily called back from the world of the movie, distracted by the cherry scent of her hair when he breathed in or the warmth of her body as she rested against him, the sound of her breathing. Oh fine, so he was just distracted by _her_. _Forbidden Planet_ might be a great movie but honestly, Kate was more fascinating than any movie ever could be.

He thought—hoped—he was doing a good job of hiding his distraction and made yet another attempt to wrestle his brain back into focusing on the movie. But then she let one hand fall to rest on his knee and any chance he had of actually paying attention to the movie was shot to hell in one second. It seemed as if everything in him focused on the feel of her hand on his knee, the warmth radiating through the denim of his jeans, lust kindling to life inside him. It was a little ridiculous, to be reacting so strongly to a relatively innocent touch, but well, this was Kate and they'd only had one night together so far and that one night had already been the best (and hottest) night of his life.

Her hand rested on his knee for a few minutes while Kate appeared to be engrossed in the movie but then her fingers shifted a little, traced the inseam of his jeans. He tensed. She went on, her hand slowly, excruciatingly slowly, straying up his thigh and he glanced down at her. _Oh._ The faintest of smirks was tugging at the corner of her lips. Well, if that was how she wanted to play it…

He let his own hand fall to her thigh, tracing not-so-idle patterns along her thigh, as he moved his head to nuzzle a kiss to her ear, feathering his lips against the little hollow just below her ear lobe, making her breath stutter, her head tilting automatically to give him greater ease of access to her neck. He adored her short hair because it meant there was nothing even remotely impeding his access to her neck. And he took advantage, peppering a string of soft, damp kisses along her jaw and down her neck until she whimpered a little.

And then she was shifting, her hands coming up to capture his head, her fingers ruffling the hair above his ears, and then bringing his mouth to hers. God, he was never ever going to get enough of kissing her, of the soft wet heat of her mouth, the breathy little moan she emitted.

He tightened his arms around her, his hands finding the hem of her shirt and sliding underneath it to find her oh-so-soft skin underneath and she was arching into him and his entire world had collapsed down to the heat of her lips and the slick of her tongue against his. He somewhat reluctantly moved on from her lips to string a series of damp kisses down her jaw and her neck, his tongue flicking out against the delicate skin.

It was through the roaring of blood in his ears that he heard her breathless gasp, "Castle, wait, stop."

The words pierced through the fog of lust clouding his brain and he released her, his breath coming fast and ragged, as he tried to get a hold of his self control. "What's wrong?"

Kate ran a caressing finger down his ear—who knew that even his ear could be an erogenous zone?—and kissed his chin. "Nothing. I just thought that we should probably move this into your bedroom."

"You, uh, don't want to finish the movie?"

She snickered. Okay, yeah, it was a dumb question but given the current state of his body, he was impressed he'd managed to be coherent at all. "I've watched it before so I do know what happens," she responded, her voice warm with humor and affection.

"Right, of course," he tried to sound more in control, more like the sophisticated man-about-town he actually was (ha—not with Kate, he wasn't).

She stood up and tugged him up with her and he stopped the movie and put the DVD away, turning off the TV before he turned back to see that she was waiting for him in the doorway to his office.

His heart and his step stuttered for a moment at the sight of her because he really liked her like this, so relaxed and teasing and flirtatious. "You coming, Castle?"

A bark of laughter escaped him, the words galvanizing him into action. There was a smirk on her lips that told him she definitely intended the double entendre.

Yes, he was most definitely coming. And so would she.

She did. More than once.

Afterwards, he returned from the bathroom and slid back into his side of the bed—wait, what, already? Oh, he really had it bad—loving the way Kate scooted back into him, tucking the warm length of her body against his. He curled his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her earlobe before relaxing into the mattress.

She didn't speak, which wasn't that surprising since Kate was not given to idle chatter to begin with, and he was perfectly content to be quiet, his skin still humming with satisfaction.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before she murmured, "Castle?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

There was a little note of something he couldn't quite identify in her voice, something that told him that whatever it was, she wasn't trying to tease him. He prodded his wits into alertness. "Of course, anything. Ask away, Detective."

"Earlier, when your editor called, Alexis mentioned that you were talking to Gina and I remembered she'd mentioned the name before. I don't want to pry but I wondered," she added a little hurriedly.

Right, he supposed he did need to tell her about Gina, especially since if their relationship lasted (oh god, please, let it last), she would end up meeting Gina at some point. "You can ask, Kate. Gina is my editor but we also dated for a while so she's my ex-girlfriend too."

"Oh." Kate turned in his arms so she could face him, which was probably a good thing for this conversation. "So you still work with your ex?" It wasn't quite a question but then he'd already answered it, anyway.

He lifted a hand to sift his fingers through her hair, gently tucking a few errant strands behind her ear. "Gina and I are friends; we work together," he began slowly and then made a small face as he continued. "She's been my editor for about three years now; she helps me figure out plot points and things like that. She's very good at her job, is very driven and passionate about what she does which has made me a better writer."

He paused and she made a humming sound of encouragement in her throat.

"We worked together well and we have a lot of similar interests in books, obviously. And well, Alexis is getting towards the age where I thought she would need more, um, female advice,"—he tried not to shudder at the thought—"and I thought Gina could be a good role model because she's a smart, successful career woman so we started dating." That had worked out about as well as he should have expected. It occurred to him, belatedly, that asking Gina out more because of her potential as a role model for his daughter than because of any real romantic interest in her as a woman, had justly backfired on him.

He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "We dated for almost six months but after a while, we realized it wasn't really working." He debated but then added, "With Gina being my editor too, things with work started to spill into our relationship and it caused some problems."

"Did Alexis—" Kate began and then stopped abruptly. "Never mind."

He had a feeling he knew what Kate wanted to ask. "Did Alexis what?"

She hesitated, her eyes not quite meeting his, before she finished, "Did Alexis get along with Gina?"

It was his turn to hesitate. "They didn't not get along," he finally answered slowly. "Gina did try but she didn't really spend a lot of time with Alexis, partly because I still wanted to protect Alexis, just in case…"

"In case the relationship didn't work out," Kate finished for him quietly. He heard a faint thread of something like hesitation or uncertainty in her tone.

Wait, was she worried—did she think— "It's not like that with you, Kate," he hurriedly assured her. "It's different. _You're_ different."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, because you and Alexis are already friends. I don't think I could keep you and Alexis from spending time together even if I wanted to, because Alexis wouldn't like it."

That made her smile, her expression clearing. "Well, I know how you hate to disappoint Alexis."

"I really do," he said only half-facetiously.

"Very self-sacrificing of you," she drawled.

He huffed a laugh and rolled over until he was lying half on top of her, lowering his lips to the spot on her neck that he already knew would make her gasp and then mewl—and she did. "Oh, I'm happy to spend time with you for my own sake," he husked against her skin, rocking his hips against her so she could most certainly feel the part of his body that was making its, ahem, happiness known.

She slid her hands into his hair, arching under him. "Prove it," she panted.

And so he did.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: For anyone who's wondering, especially the guest reviewers who asked, I would estimate this fic will end up being around 35 chapters long, although that's not set in stone. There's still more story to be told around Kate becoming more a part of the Castle family and some issues to be dealt with regarding Jim and Meredith.

Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: Featuring Lanie and Jim finding out about Castle. Enjoy.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 27_

Kate gave a perfunctory knock on the glass window of the morgue and when Lanie looked up, opened the door and poked her head in, waving the white paper bag from the deli. "Hey. I brought lunch."

"Come on in, Beckett. I was thinking of calling you. I just need to take care of one thing and I'll be ready."

Kate stepped into the morgue, skirting around Lanie to the corner desk that was Lanie's and depositing both the bag with their sandwiches and another bag with sodas on it.

Lanie finished what she'd been working on and then pushed herself to her feet and before Kate could react, had pulled her into a hug. "I heard about what happened, honey. I'm so sorry."

Huh, what? Kate blinked and frowned, too nonplussed to do more than a tentative return of her friend's hug.

Lanie released her and took a seat in the other chair. "I meant to call you earlier but I got called in to work. How are you holding up?"

"You heard about what?" Kate asked.

"About the case, on Friday. You guys got confirmation of the kid's COD this morning, right?"

Oh, right, the Trevor Adelson case. It had already slipped to the back of her mind. Somewhat surprisingly—or perhaps not since the weekend really had effectively captured her thoughts. She had sent Castle a text message after they had received word that Castle's conjecture about Trevor dying from heat stroke was correct and he had responded simply, _Sorry to hear that_.

"Oh, yes, we did, but I'm okay." She really was, better than okay, even. The reminder of Trevor Adelson had been a melancholy start to a Monday morning but just a little while after she had told Castle about it, he had sent her another text message, inviting her to come over for dinner if she could. And added that he missed her already. Which was a little ridiculous since it had been less than 24 hours since she'd parted from him but was also (kind of) sweet. Okay, more than kind of sweet. It had, at any rate, made warmth blossom in her chest and effectively brightened her mood.

"You're okay," Lanie repeated dubiously, narrowing her eyes as she studied Kate.

Kate met her friend's eyes, not quite able to keep a corner of her lips from twitching. She knew what an acute observer her friend was and she was a little curious to see if Lanie would guess, especially since Lanie had been such a big proponent of Kate going out on dates in general and dating Castle specifically.

"Kate," Lanie drew her name out slowly, "you look… different." She paused and then, "Kate Beckett, you got laid, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

That wasn't exactly how Kate would have described the two nights with Castle but… The smile, not quite a smirk, that had been threatening to escape finally did so. She didn't answer in words but she didn't need to.

"It's about damn time," Lanie exclaimed, grinning, and then almost immediately after, her expression collapsed into a frown, as she directed a direful look at Kate. "Wait a minute. Kate Beckett, tell me you did not reject Rick Castle a couple weeks ago only to fall into bed with another guy to get over a bad day at work."

Kate gaped a little and managed not to make a face at the mere idea of falling into bed with another man. At this moment, she couldn't imagine ever sleeping with another man ever again or even wanting to sleep with another man. Only Castle. (Oh shit, she had it bad.) "Lanie!" she spluttered.

"Don't 'Lanie' me," Lanie retorted. "When I said you should get a life, I did not mean you should have a one night stand with some random guy when you could have an actual relationship with a guy you really like and who likes you. From what I saw of Rick Castle and what you've said about him, he—"

Lanie was clearly building up a head of steam and Kate hastily cut her off. "I was with Castle!"

Lanie broke off. "You were with Castle," she repeated.

"Yes," Kate answered simply but knew that, more than the monosyllabic answer, the smile she couldn't seem to help at the mere mention of his name would tell Lanie a lot.

"You slept with Rick Castle!" Lanie's voice rose loud enough that Kate winced and spared a moment to be very glad that she'd decided to beard the lion that was her best friend in the privacy of the morgue as opposed to a restaurant somewhere. She did not need to have the news that she'd slept with Castle broadcast like this. "Ha!" Lanie punched the air in triumph. "I told you, you should!"

On second thought, why had she thought she should tell Lanie again? It was nice to have a supportive best friend but this sort of sharing was not her forte.

Lanie pinned Kate with a look. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Lanie rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, girl, you can't just drop a piece of news like that and expect that to be the end of it. You had sex with _Richard Castle_."

"Can you stop repeating that?"

"Girl, don't make me smack you. You gotta give me more than that. For those of us who aren't lucky enough to sleep with celebrities, dish."

Kate flushed. "Will you stop talking about him like that? He's not—that's not—you know that's not why I'm with him." It was not the most coherent thing she could have said but she had to say something. Aside from her own discomfort with Castle's wealth and celebrity status, she felt weirdly offended on Castle's behalf because he was so much more than just some rich celebrity. She knew Lanie didn't mean anything by it but it still bothered her. Castle wasn't that man, the one on Page Six, or even the celebrity persona he flashed at his book signings.

To her credit, Lanie looked a little sheepish at that. "I know that's not why you're with him, Kate," she said more gently. "But," she added after a pause, "you still owe me more than that."

"Lanie..." It was Kate's turn to draw her friend's name out. "It's… personal."

"Come on, Beckett, I'm your friend, I'm not going to call up Page Six. So..." She paused expectantly and then when Kate didn't answer, prompted, "what was it like?"

"It was good," Kate finally answered, accepting that she needed to say something. "He's good."

"Uh huh, could you possibly be any more vague?"

"Lanie, come on," Kate huffed. "I'm not going to give you a play-by-play."

"Ka-ate," her friend wheedled. "Come on, girl, give me a little more than that. With Castle's reputation, you can't blame me for wondering."

"What do you want from me, Lanie?" Kate hissed in some exasperation. "Do you want me to tell you that he's an amazing kisser and he seems to know exactly where and how to touch me? That it's the best sex I've ever had and it's not even close?"

Lanie was now staring at her and Kate felt a blush scorch her cheeks that felt as if it should be able to set her face on fire. Shit, what had she just blurted out?

A smirk tugged on Lanie's lips. "Yeah, that'll do." She sat back and now, she unwrapped her sandwich. She took a bite and chewed it meditatively, taking a sip of her soda afterwards. "So you and Castle are together now? This wasn't just some one-time affirming-life kind of thing, right?"

"No, it's not. We talked and, well, we're going to give it a try, being together. And I… spent the weekend with him and Alexis and it was fun."

Lanie studied Kate with a long, assessing look. "Yeah, I can see that it must have been fun. After what happened on Friday, I was expecting you to come in here looking funereal and instead, you look relaxed, happy even." Her friend's expression softened. "It's a good look on you, Beckett."

Kate relaxed into a smile, even as she felt heat creep into her cheeks. So much for having a poker face. "It was a good weekend."

"With the kid around, I guess you couldn't have spent the entire weekend rolling around in Castle's bed, so what else did you do?"

"On Saturday, we had brunch and then went to the zoo and then yesterday, we watched a movie before I left to have dinner with my dad." Yesterday had been a gray, somewhat drizzly day, which had necessitated resorting to indoor activities. Castle had, again, cooked brunch, this time of eggs and bacon along with fresh fruit, and he had even relented so far as to allow her to help in slicing up the fruit.

"Mm. How very domestic of you, Beckett," Lanie observed, arching her eyebrows.

The word had Kate's heart stuttering a little in her chest. Lanie wasn't wrong but it was so early for that sort of word to be tossed around. "It was just one weekend."

"One weekend, which you spent playing house with Rick Castle and his kid."

"Lanie! Don't make such a big deal out of it. It's not… it's only been a couple days," Kate faltered. Only a couple days—and as wonderful as the weekend had been, she was still a little afraid to hope that all this happiness could last.

"Maybe, but you're smitten, Kate Beckett, you can't fool me."

Smitten. Kate flushed. "Maybe I am, a little," she admitted. (A lot. But she couldn't say that aloud. Not yet, not to Lanie.) "But I don't want to jinx it," she blurted out.

Lanie's expression softened as she held up her hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "I won't say another word, Kate, no jinxing, I promise. I'm just glad you took my advice and decided to go for it with Castle. You, of all people, deserve some good luck to fall in your way."

Kate relaxed enough to smile. "Thanks, Lanie."

Her friend nodded and resumed eating her sandwich and that was the end of the talk about Kate's personal life and Castle, as they both smoothly switched to chatting about other matters like the rumors swirling around the 54th precinct. But it seemed as if not talking about Castle only made Kate think about him more.

* * *

By the time Saturday rolled around, Kate had possibly never been happier to finish up the paperwork to close her latest case. An accomplishment made all the sweeter with the knowledge that she wouldn't need to go into the precinct tomorrow unless, by some unfortunate mischance, enough bodies dropped on Sunday that one would fall to Hassan's team again.

It had been another long, tiring week in which she had only managed to see Castle and Alexis once. A body had dropped on Monday afternoon, preventing her from going over to the loft for dinner that evening, and that had turned out to be only the first in a double homicide that had kept Kate and Hassan chasing down leads late into the next two evenings before they had finally caught a break and solved it on Thursday. That evening was the one time all week she had managed to accept Castle's daily invitation to come over for dinner, much to his and Alexis's delight (and hers too).

Friday morning, she'd had to leave the loft early in order to return to her own apartment to shower and get ready for work and again, had a body drop later that morning but that case, thankfully, turned out to be more straightforward, a workplace rivalry gone very wrong, and Kate and Hassan had managed to close it earlier today.

And even though she had still talked to Castle every day, usually via text message, it wasn't the same as being able to see him. Kate was a little surprised how much she missed him—and Alexis too—the way missing them was like a sore spot on her consciousness that she couldn't seem to help worrying.

Kate submitted the paperwork to Captain Montgomery, receiving a nod of acknowledgement and a crisp, "Nice work, Beckett."

"Thank you, sir."

He flapped a hand at her. "Now get out of here."

"Yes, sir." She obeyed the order with alacrity, which gave her enough time to return home and change into jeans before meeting her dad for dinner.

Her dad was already waiting for her at the diner where they had eaten the day he finished rehab and had now become their usual meeting place when there was nothing else going on. She tried to feel a little encouraged at his punctuality because her dad always had been punctual before—well, before.

Her dad stood up when she walked in and she stepped into his embrace. It felt a little more natural every time, to greet her dad with a hug, a little more normal to actually feel strength in the arms he wrapped around her. It was starting to feel familiar again.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Katie."

"How was your week?" she asked, her question overlapping with her dad's "How are you doing, Katie?"

They both broke off and exchanged smiles, only a little tinged with awkwardness, and her dad waved a hand. "You go first."

She summoned up a smile. "I had a busy week; we solved two cases. Hassan is letting me take the lead in questioning people more often now."

"That's good to hear, Katie. It sounds like you're really starting to get the hang of things as a detective."

"I hope so," she responded. She did think she was getting more comfortable with everything involved with being a detective, wasn't often at a loss anymore. But of course, her dad's optimistic view was partly based on the fact that she never mentioned any of her challenges or struggles, at work or elsewhere to her dad. "What about you, Dad? How was your week?"

"Busy, like yours. One of the other lawyers working with me on an upcoming case just got sick so he won't be able to finish writing the brief after all so that's falling to me. In fact, I might even go into the office for a couple hours tomorrow to try to work on it because it'll be easier to write when the office is quieter."

"I hope the lawyer's not seriously sick though."

"No, it's nothing too serious, I don't think, but enough to take him out of commission for a week or so and as luck would have it, the brief is due early next week. I don't mind so much. It'll be good to try my hand at writing a brief again."

"I remember you always seemed to rather enjoy writing briefs," she offered, feeling a little pang at the memories the words accompanied.

Something like wistfulness flashed across her dad's face. "Yeah, I did." He said nothing more but somehow she knew that he'd been about to mention her mom. Her mom had not enjoyed the process of writing briefs as much, had used to joke that she should let Jim write all her briefs for her. Kate's throat tightened, as always, at the thought of her mom.

She quickly forced a smile though, gesturing to the menu. "Well, what do you feel like eating, Dad?"

They ordered their meals in short order and then a brief silence fell. Kate tensed—well, more than she already was just from spending time with her dad—since she supposed now was the time to tell her dad about Castle. She hadn't mentioned Castle or their new relationship to her dad when they had met up for dinner last weekend. It had felt too soon to be mentioning it and in an odd way, too… precious. She had irrationally felt as if she wanted to keep the memory of the weekend, the news of the relationship, to herself just for a little while longer. As if she was a miser and her new, fragile happiness were a jewel to be hoarded and treasured in secret.

She might have told Lanie but Lanie was different, had been the one who'd tried to prod Kate into this relationship with Castle in the first place.

Telling her dad was a different matter entirely. It felt awkward because she'd never talked about boys or relationships with her dad. Her mom had always been her confidante of choice when it came to this sort of thing, for obvious reasons.

But now, well, it had been a week and even though she hadn't spent much time with Castle in that week, just the way they had talked every day had somehow reassured her, made her feel more as if, well, as if this relationship really might go somewhere. And not only that, when she had briefly spoken to Castle over the phone yesterday night, he had mentioned that he'd told Martha about their relationship—or more accurately, Alexis had let it slip and he had confirmed it. So it appeared they had reached the point of telling other people as it were.

"Say, Dad, do you remember that friend of mine I mentioned before, the one who has the adorable daughter?" she finally began, not quite naturally.

"Yes, I do remember. Alexis, right?"

"Alexis, yes. I had dinner with Alexis and her dad on Thursday."

"Well, that sounds nice. I'm glad you're able to make some time to see friends even with how busy your work is. I hope they're doing well."

She managed a smile. "They are." Okay, no more hedging, she needed to just spit it out. "Actually, Dad, I should mention that he's not just a friend anymore. He and I are dating now." She inwardly writhed. Ugh, that could not possibly have sounded less natural but really, how did one tell one's father about a boyfriend? And it wasn't as if she and her dad had the easiest relationship right now to begin with.

Her dad blinked a little. "Oh, well, that's nice, Katie. If you like him, I'm sure he must be a good guy."

"He is." Castle was so much more than just 'a good guy,' but it would do. Well, that hadn't been so bad.

"So tell me a little more about him. What's his name? I think you said you met because you like some of the same books?"

Oh right, there was the other little issue of Castle's identity. "His name is Rick." She paused, taking in a breath. "Rick Castle."

"Rick Castle," her dad repeated, his eyes going a little wide. "Wait, do you mean, Richard Castle, the author, the one whose books your—mom liked so much?" As usual, his tone changed ever so slightly, grief flickering across his expression, at the mention of her mom.

"Yes, that Rick Castle."

"Oh. Well… that is a surprise, Katie," her dad said, a little slowly, thoughtfully.

She made a noncommittal sound. She knew it was a surprise. For that matter, she was still surprised sometimes when she thought about it, how she, who was just a regular cop, could be in a relationship with a famous multimillionaire.

"I met him once, years ago, at that book signing of his," her dad recalled.

She smiled slightly. "I remember that."

"He seemed like a very personable young man."

"He is," she agreed blandly. That was one way of putting it, her dad's reserved, lawyerly (and male) view of Castle's charm. If he tried, she had no doubt Castle could have charmed birds out of their nests, like some Disney princess, she thought with a flare of inward amusement. She made a mental note to tease him about it later.

A faint frown now drew her dad's brows together. "Wait, I thought he was married?"

She flushed and, for once, forgot to moderate her response to her dad. "Dad! He's divorced—I wouldn't do that!" she protested, not quite coherently. She hadn't been expecting that but now that she thought about it, it occurred to her that, yeah, given the timing of it, when her dad had gone to Castle's book signing, Castle would still have been married. He had not really acquired his playboy reputation until afterwards, she remembered. At least, her dad was not one to follow celebrity gossip so she doubted he was familiar with the extent of Castle's reputation in that sense.

Her dad had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Sorry, Katie, I should have known better. I know you wouldn't do something like that."

Admittedly, she might have dated other boys while in high school in the face of her parents'—well, mostly her dad's—disapproval but not something like getting involved with a married man.

"No, I wouldn't."

"No one raised by your mom would," her dad agreed, a faint, sad smile crossing his lips.

She tried not to wince. "True," she murmured.

"He's older than you," her dad observed, his tone mild as if he were stating a purely neutral fact.

"Yes," she acknowledged but couldn't help but add under her breath, partly to herself, "But you wouldn't think so from the way he acts half the time." She found it hard to remember that Castle was almost a decade older than her since he didn't act like it. She left unsaid that she found his silliness to be endearing and—oh fine—adorable.

Somewhat surprisingly, her dad laughed out loud at that. "I'll take your word for it on that, Katie."

She relaxed enough to smile, made easier by the memory of Castle roaring at bears. Ridiculous, adorable man. Her ridiculous, adorable man. (Wait, what? Hers? Oh, fine, yes, hers. At least in the privacy of her own thoughts, for now.)

"He's just… fun," she said.

Her dad nodded. "That's good to hear." But then he sobered. "He has a kid," he noted, again trying to sound neutral but not quite managing it this time as something like concern edged into his voice.

"And she's adorable," Kate returned, trying to get her dad's expression to soften.

Her dad didn't smile, only studied her for a moment, a faint frown crimping his brows together. "Katie…" he began, somewhat hesitantly, only to stop.

She raised questioning brows at him, attempting to seem entirely unfazed. "Dad?"

Her dad hesitated and then finally asked, "What about Alexis's mother?"

She had the sense that wasn't what he'd started out to say. "I told you, Dad, they're divorced, have been for years," she answered cautiously and then went on, picking her words with care, "She lives in California and from what I've heard, she's… not around that often." She hoped that sounded bland enough. She had not said outright that Meredith was an absentee parent, after all.

"Mm," her dad made a noncommittal sound but one she recognized, when combined with his thoughtful expression, as not generally boding well. It was the sort of thing he did when he was thinking through something that vaguely troubled him.

Was it just the fact that Castle was divorced? She really didn't think her dad would be familiar with Castle's playboy reputation; he never had been someone who kept up with that sort of gossip and even if he had been, he hadn't been in any condition to pay attention to it in the last handful of years.

"What is it, Dad?"

"I just… look, Katie, getting involved with someone who has a kid comes with some unique challenges different than those that come along with any new relationship. You have to think about the little kid too, how your relationship might affect her. It's a big responsibility."

Who was he to talk to her about the responsibility she should feel towards a kid? Kate felt a flash of searing anger that almost stunned her with its force. Her _dad_ , who had been anything but a responsible parent in the last five years, who had failed her—yes, he _had_ —when she needed him most, forced her to become the caretaker for him, forced her to be the adult at a time when she'd barely been a legal adult herself.

She had forgiven him—mostly forgiven him—she _had_. Alcoholism was an _illness_ , she understood that, she did but something about the implied judgment made her temper flare. Understanding something intellectually was not the same thing as feeling it emotionally. Her dad might once have had the right to tell her what to do in her life but he didn't now, had forfeited any moral authority he had over her years ago, from the moment he'd crawled headfirst into a bottle and not come out.

She forcefully stamped out as much of her anger as she could, shoving it behind steel-padlocked doors. No no no, she couldn't think like this, wouldn't think like this. And she sure as hell could not let her dad know how she felt. She'd learned that bitter lesson years ago. No, she could not show her temper to her dad—any more than she'd been able to share her grief with him.

And she could not—would not—do anything that might shake him from his newfound sobriety.

She sucked in a breath, holding it for long seconds that she deliberately counted out, as she tried to get her temper under control. No no—calm, she had to be calm, composed. Always the perfectly composed, dutiful daughter.

"I know that, Dad." There had been more bite than she'd wanted in her tone. Something approaching a wince flickered across her dad's face. She forcibly moderated her voice again, letting out a long breath. "I have thought about it, Dad," she began again, slowly. "I know what I'm doing."

There was a beat of silence and then at that opportune—or inopportune—moment, the server returned with their orders, putting an inevitable pause to their conversation.

Kate took the opportunity to take a long drink of ice water, hoping a little wryly that it would have the same cooling effect on her upset.

It shouldn't matter to her what her dad thought of her relationship with Castle anyway. She'd learned to get along without her dad and she was fine.

And she had Castle now. The thought darted into her mind, doing more to calm her emotional turmoil than anything else ever had. Castle, who cared about her, who made her laugh. Who somehow, in spite of all his humor and joking around—or maybe even because of his humor and joking around—provided a haven of some peace, comfort.

It was a little strange, she thought, to think of another person in terms of comfort—it wasn't anything she'd been able to do for years—but somehow, there it was, the thought fully formed in her mind, the belief taking root in her heart. For the first time in years, she was starting to feel as if she wasn't alone.

Her dad had ordered spaghetti and had made a production out of thoroughly mixing the sauce and the noodles but now he set his fork down and looked up at her. "Katie," he began again, his voice gentler, "I didn't mean to sound like I was judging. I don't really know your Rick Castle or his daughter. I know you would never deliberately do anything to hurt a little kid and as long as you've thought about it, that's enough for me. I trust you."

Was she imagining it or had her dad shrunk down a little in his seat? Oh god, had he somehow guessed her thoughts, her anger?

She manufactured a reassuring smile and put it on. "It's okay, Dad. I know you only said it because you care," she managed to say. It wasn't a lie. She didn't think her dad was trying to get her to end her relationship. For one thing, after her high school years, he of all people knew that wouldn't work on her. He was just… being a dad. Oh. He had been trying to resume his role as her dad, almost as he had when she'd been in high school, before—well, before. The dad who'd given her advice, tried to curb her impulses and rebellions and, yes, tried to tell her what to do (albeit with limited success, even with her teenage self).

She supposed the thought should have made her happy. After all, wasn't that what she had wanted, her old dad back? And yet… no. She realized to the full, belatedly, that it was never going to happen. Could never happen. She had thought it before, believed she'd understood, but it had been hypothetical. Now, it was made starkly clear that they couldn't go back. Not only because she wasn't a teenager anymore, was a fully functioning adult and a homicide detective, at that, but because, well, too much had simply changed. The loss of her mom, her dad's long years of drowning in the bottle, all the myriad blows their relationship had suffered in those years. And the fact that even now, she didn't trust in her dad's sobriety, was always on guard around him, careful to present only a positive face to him.

"As long as Rick Castle can make you happy, that's good enough for me, Katie."

She softened a little more. Her dad did love her (maybe not enough—she shoved the thought aside)—he loved her and no matter what had happened, she didn't want to lose him. "We just started dating but, yeah, he does."

Her dad managed a smile that looked only a little forced. "Then I'm glad for you, Katie."

They started to eat and after a little while, Kate paused and asked, "So Dad, what do you think about the Mets this season?"

Her dad accepted the obvious change of subject with an air of something like relief. Well, baseball had been one thing she and her dad had in common, one that her mom had not shared. It could serve as a bridge between them now.

Thankfully, conversation about the Mets and how their season looked to be shaping up so far was enough to carry them through most of dinner.

Kate accepted her dad's hug and peck on the cheek as they parted and even managed a real smile for him. "It was good seeing you, Dad."

"Likewise, Katie."

"Good luck on that brief."

"Thanks, Katie. Take care of yourself. And Katie, I really am glad that you've found someone who makes you happy."

"Thanks, Dad."

She lifted a hand in a wave as her dad got into the taxi he'd hailed and then turned away towards where she had parked, pulling out her phone.

They hadn't made specific plans so she sent a quick text to Castle. _Mind if I come over?_

He hadn't responded before she started her car but she found herself heading towards the loft anyway. She just… wanted to see him. Not only because she'd missed him but because of what her dad had said. She wanted the reassurance of his presence, the warmth she felt when he smiled at her.

Somewhat surprisingly, Castle must not have seen her text at all or so she realized when he opened the door to her knock, his eyes going wide with pleased surprise. "Kate! I thought you were having dinner with your dad."

A laugh bubbled out of her, surprising even herself, her heart already feeling lighter just at the sight of him. (How did he make her laugh so easily?) "I did but dinner's over now. I sent you a text but I guess you didn't get it."

"I left my phone in my office."

He didn't move out of the doorway, just smiled at her in a way that had her flushing a little—god, how was it possible that even dressed casually, she could make him lose his train of thought like this?

She quirked her eyebrows at him. "Can I come in or are you planning on turning me away?"

He gave a huff of a laugh that overlapped with the sound of Alexis's voice calling, "Let her in, Daddy, that's not nice."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," he babbled and her laugh was muffled as he immediately reached out, grasping her jacket and tugging her straight into him, where she went willingly, tucking her face against his shoulder. And felt the knot of tension that had taken up residence in her sternum for the last hours—just from having dinner with her dad—loosen and dissolve as he closed his arms around her.

She felt him press his lips to her hair and lifted her face to allow him to kiss her lips too, which invitation he promptly accepted.

But the kiss didn't last for long as it was interrupted by Alexis, who had come up to join them. "Stop being gross, Daddy, it's my turn to hug Kate now."

Their kiss broke apart on a laugh as Castle released her so she could turn to Alexis, returning the girl's hug. "It's good to see you too, Alexis."

"I was hoping you could come over today," Alexis informed her, adding with a mischief that made her resemblance to her dad even more apparent than usual, "Daddy's been pouting."

"I have not been pouting!" Castle protested, even as he pulled an exaggerated pout for Alexis's benefit, making the girl cackle with hilarity.

"See, like that, Kate!"

Kate snickered at him but addressed Alexis. "Your dad's really just a big kid a lot of the time, isn't he?"

Alexis giggled. "Most of the time!"

Castle huffed. "If you two are done making fun of me," he inserted in an overly loud voice. "Can I get you anything to drink, Kate?"

"Actually, since I just had dinner, I was thinking I'd come over here for dessert. You want to have dessert with me, Alexis?"

Alexis took Kate's hand and led her to the kitchen island. "I already had dessert but I'll have a second dessert, if Daddy will let me."

Unsurprisingly, Castle indulged her. "You may have a small second dessert, Alexis," he agreed. "Now, Detective, what's your pleasure? We have ice cream, of course, two different kinds of cookies, and some chocolate pudding Alexis and I made this afternoon."

Kate chose pudding, after duly consulting Alexis, and she and Alexis proceeded to eat their puddings merrily, accompanied by Alexis's gleeful recounting of some of Castle's sillier antics in the park that day.

Kate laughed and joined Alexis in poking affectionate fun at Castle, letting the familial warmth and happiness that seemed to permeate the loft settle around her like a blanket. Her dad was wrong, that was all. He didn't know Castle or how good a dad Castle was. And she wouldn't let her relationship with Castle hurt Alexis in any way, ever, no matter what happened. She could be good for Castle and for Alexis too—she would be good for them, she promised herself. They were going to be fine.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I can never thank all you readers and reviewers enough but rest assured I appreciate every word, with special thanks to the guests whom I can't thank directly!


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: This was a chapter I had some fun writing. I hope you enjoy reading it!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 28_

No no no. Damn it.

Kate looked up as McPherson dropped the thick stack of paper onto her desk. "Vic's financial records are in, Beckett, and I know Hassan just got the phone records."

Kate suppressed a grimace. "Thanks, McPherson. Guess I know what I'll be doing tonight," she said wryly. It was an informal comment that she wouldn't make to just about anyone else, always conscious as she was of being a new detective and a young woman at that, but McPherson had been at the Academy with her and so he was one of the officers she was on friendly terms with.

He chuckled. "Yeah, better you than me. Have a good night, Beckett."

"Good night."

Once McPherson had left, Kate eyed the stack of paper balefully. Damn. She'd been hoping against hope that this would turn out to be one of those times when the financial institutions and phone company would drag their feet a little bit in responding to the warrant request but no, of course not. In normal times, the waiting game they often ended up playing after submitting a warrant was a frustration but naturally, today, the one day when she'd really been hoping they would take their time (not deliberately, of course, but just in the normal course of bureaucracy), the companies responded with irritating promptness.

Damn.

When she and Hassan had caught the case earlier today, she had texted Castle to let him know but told him optimistically that she still hoped to be able to make their date. Which really should have been a warning sign, because it placed her in the untenable position of hoping for a delay in getting evidence.

She glanced around to see that Hassan was on the phone and took the opportunity to grab her cell phone and slip away from her desk, heading to the quiet hallway leading to storage in a bid for some privacy.

It was the nature of her job; it wasn't as if detective work was ever going to be a steady 9 to 5 sort of job. She knew all that and goodness knows, it wasn't either the first or the last time work had gotten in the way of plans but this one felt worse, was more personal.

Tonight was supposed to have been her first real date with Castle. She had gone out and bought a new dress. He'd made a reservation at what was no doubt an expensive, exclusive restaurant. He had even asked Martha to stay overnight at the loft because she might have intimated to Castle that she wouldn't mind having him all to herself for the entire night. And now her work was getting in the way. And would any man be pleased to be presented with evidence that her job took precedence over a date with him?

Adam hadn't understood. Castle was different—he _was_ —and their relationship was already deeper, more serious, than her brief pseudo-relationship with Adam had ever been. And yet, she couldn't entirely stamp out the niggle of insecurity. Couldn't help but remember that the last time she'd canceled a date, Adam's response had been to break up with her, saying he didn't think their relationship could go anywhere because she was too focused on her work. And sure, it wasn't as if her emotions had been even remotely involved—but maybe that was the problem. With Adam, she hadn't been involved enough to care or be afraid; with Castle, she knew she already was. She hadn't been vulnerable to Adam at all, he had always been firmly on the other side of the entrenched defenses around her heart. But Castle—Castle had somehow snuck his way past the outer-most defenses even before they had so much as kissed and now, she was well and truly smitten. (And some corner of her was a little terrified that if anyone could, he could dig a tunnel or build a ladder or something to breach the innermost fortifications around her heart—and then what would happen if and when this relationship ended?)

She didn't expect Castle to be angry, she knew him better than that, but she couldn't help the cold little niggle of doubt slithering through her. Because she couldn't promise that she'd never need to cancel again. For that matter, even in the months they had known each other, she'd needed to cancel and postpone their plans multiple times so Castle would know better than to believe any assurances she might give. But what he was okay with in a friend might turn out to be different when it came to his girlfriend constantly canceling on him for their dates.

She inwardly steeled herself. No point in borrowing trouble, as Lanie would no doubt point out.

Even in spite of her nervousness and her own disappointment, she couldn't help the bubble of warmth that welled up inside her chest at the sound of his voice when he answered. (Oh, she had it so bad, was ridiculously smitten.) "Hey Castle, it's me."

"Kate, hi! Alexis is just helping me decide what tie to wear. And my mother should be arriving in the next half hour."

He was planning to wear a tie? And why oh why was the mental image of him in a suit and tie making her feel so warm when she had seen him in much less?

She bit her lip. "Ah, yeah, about that, Castle, I don't think you'll need the tie. I'm really sorry but I won't be able to make our date after all. It looks like I'm going to need to spend my evening poring over phone and financial records. I'm really sorry," she repeated.

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Kate," he answered, his tone sounding remarkably unfazed, not at all irritated or angry. "I understand. And don't worry about it; we'll just reschedule to another evening. It's not a big deal."

"I just… it's our first real date, Castle," she couldn't help but point out, unnecessarily, since it wasn't as if he didn't know. "I don't want you to think I'm being a flake or that I don't… care," she stumbled a bit before the word—admissions of vulnerability did not come easily.

"Kate, it really is okay," he assured her, his voice gentler. "Do I sound angry?"

"Well, no, but I know you made reservations and got dressed up and everything."

"How egotistical do you think I am that you think I'd believe a date with me is more important than a murder where a person died? I think I'm offended," he joked.

Oh, this man. She couldn't help but smile, a spurt of amusement breaking through her regret. "That wasn't what I meant, Castle, and you know it."

"Well, then, stop feeling guilty. We'll have our date some other evening and, you know," his voice lowered a little, "if you finished going through evidence before it was too late, you do know where I live…"

Now, she laughed, could picture the way he would be wiggling his eyebrows at her in teasing suggestiveness. "Why, Mr. Castle, that almost sounds like an invitation," she drawled.

"Who am I to tell you how to think?" he returned airily. "So if you want to take it as one, that's up to you."

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth but her smile escaped anyway. "I'll think about it and you'll just have to wait and see what I decide," she teased. From the bullpen, she heard the distant sound of voices and a phone ringing and reluctantly accepted that she needed to go. She was at work after all, couldn't just stand here on the phone flirting—oh god—with her boyfriend. "Anyway, I'd better get back to work, Castle. I really am sorry about our date."

"Don't worry about it, Kate. Oh, and Alexis says hello and good luck on your case."

"Tell Alexis I said hi and thanks."

"Will do. Have a good night, Kate."

"I'll try," she said rather ruefully. "Talk to you later, Castle."

She ended the phone call and became belatedly aware that she'd unconsciously raised her other hand to finger the short strands of hair at the nape of her neck. Oh lord, she really did have it bad. Twirling her hair while on the phone with a man! And even now, she felt the smile lingering on her lips, the warmth in her chest.

She sternly wiped the smile from her face before she returned to the bullpen. She could not show herself to her colleagues looking like some sappy, lovestruck teen.

Hassan was in the conference room when she returned to the bullpen, acknowledging her with an absent nod as she joined him with the stack of the victim's financial records. "Financials?" he asked.

"Yeah, McPherson just dropped them off," she confirmed briefly.

"Right." He gestured to the papers on the conference room table. "The phone records are in too so let's get cracking."

"Yes, sir." Kate obeyed, taking the seat opposite him as she bent her head over the financial records, trying to find some indication of what a by-all-accounts steady middle-aged dentist who lived and worked in the Upper West Side had been doing to end up dead in the Bowery when his wife and co-workers knew of no reason he would ever need to go to that neighborhood.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd been so focused on her work but then she was distracted by a stir of noise out in the bullpen that should, at this hour of the evening, be mostly quiet because the daytime shift was over and any cops still around had specific tasks to get done before they too could leave. She paused and lifted her head a little, seeing out of the corner of her eye that Hassan had done the same thing, and then amid the babble, her ear distinguished the tones of one voice in particular.

Wait. She knew that voice. Knew that voice very well. She had just heard it over the phone a little while ago. What—how—why...

Either she was imagining things—and she didn't believe that—or Castle was, somehow, here. What was he doing here?

She pushed herself to her feet and ventured to the door of the conference room, her eyes immediately going to the scrum of every cop on the floor, her nose detecting the reason for the scrum—he had brought pizza—although she paid little attention to that in favor of focusing on the very familiar head of brown hair and broad shoulders.

She didn't make a sound but he seemed to sense her presence anyway because his head immediately snapped up, his eyes finding hers, his bland, publicity smile widening, becoming her smile. (Since when had she started thinking of this softer, personal smile as being hers? But it sort of was because she hadn't seen him direct it at anyone else. His smile was different, softer and more edged with tenderness, when he spoke to Alexis. But this smile, a closed-mouth curve of his lips that crinkled the corners of his eyes attractively—although really, was there anything about him that was not attractive?—was the one she saw directed at her most of the time.)

He edged his way out of the swarm of cops and even among cops, she noted that barely anyone noticed because they were focused on the pizza, and headed straight to her. He must have changed, she noted peripherally, because he was dressed in jeans and a button down, as he normally was, not a nice suit appropriate for a date, and he was holding a cup of coffee.

She took a few steps towards him, mostly to get out of the doorway of the conference room. She felt the smile threatening to break free and sternly tamped it down, trying to find irritation instead. What was he even doing here?

And oh god, had he asked for her at the front desk downstairs to even know what floor she worked on? It was Garcia at the front desk now and he was, partly by virtue of his position seeing everyone who went in and out of the building, one of the biggest gossips in the precinct. It was going to be all over the building within the hour that Richard Castle had stopped by to visit Detective Kate Beckett.

But then her brain kicked in and she realized, no, Castle couldn't have asked for her because if he had, Garcia would have called her up to let her know. Civilians weren't allowed to just wander into the precinct at any time; Garcia would have needed to contact someone in the building to get permission for Castle to be allowed up.

"Castle," she lowered her voice into a quiet hiss, "what are you doing here?"

"Detective," he greeted her, his tone oddly formal and in total contrast to the warmth in his eyes.

Her mouth opened to ask him what he was playing at but before any words could escape, his gaze shifted, his expression changing, and she realized why when she heard Montgomery's voice from behind her. "Castle, what are you doing here?"

Oh right, Montgomery and Castle knew each other. She pivoted to face her Captain as he approached them, his eyes rapidly bouncing between the two of them and the small horde of cops surrounding the pizza.

"Roy, there you are," Castle greeted.

"Beckett," Montgomery nodded at her before facing Castle and shaking his hand. "Rick, what brings you to my precinct? Don't tell me you got arrested and need me to pull some strings to get the charges dropped," he joked.

Castle chuckled. "Not today but thanks for offering. I'll keep that in mind for when I next get into trouble," he quipped. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to give you a message from Bob about our next poker night."

Huh, what? Kate stared at Castle. If he was making something up, he was looking remarkably at ease. But then again, lying about something so easily verifiable to a cop as smart as Montgomery qualified as rank stupidity and whatever Castle's faults, stupidity was not one of them.

Montgomery raised his eyebrows at Castle. "You're playing messenger now?" He glanced at Kate. "Excuse us, Beckett."

"Of course, sir."

She watched as her boyfriend (oh lord) accompanied her boss into her boss's office. What on earth? She couldn't overhear what Montgomery and Castle were saying but whatever Castle's ostensible reason for dropping by—and call her self-centered but she was sure he was really here to see her—it appeared to be real enough that Montgomery accepted it. Or at least, he appeared to accept it since he only nodded and jotted something down on his desk planner.

Then she could see that they were finishing up their conversation and she hastily moved to dispel any appearance of having been watching them by going to retrieve a slice of pizza, now that the immediate rush had dissipated, turning towards Montgomery's office only when she heard his voice. "Beckett, a word."

She deposited her slice of pizza on her desk and then hurried to join Montgomery and Castle. "Sir?" she asked, steadfastly not looking at Castle.

Montgomery gave her a bland half-smile that told Kate that Montgomery definitely knew about her relationship with Castle—whether he'd guessed or Castle had told him, she wasn't sure. "Beckett, Castle here has expressed an interest in getting an unofficial tour of the homicide division. Since I know you two are friends, I thought you wouldn't mind conducting the tour." Yeah, Montgomery definitely knew. Kate fought back a blush as she kept her gaze trained on her captain. "15 minutes or so should do it. I can't have a civilian loitering around my precinct distracting people for longer than that." He directed a pointed look at Castle. "Understood, Castle?"

Castle raised a hand with exaggerated solemnity. "15 minutes and I'm out of here. Scout's honor."

"Right. See you around, Castle." Montgomery dismissed them with a nod as he turned back towards his desk, leaving Kate to finally make eye contact with Castle.

"Come on, Castle, I'll give you your tour."

He accompanied her out of Montgomery's office eagerly and she waved a hand to indicate the bullpen. "The bullpen," she informed him with deliberate calm. "And that's my desk there," she pointed.

"Ooh, really?" He practically craned his neck to get a better view of her desk as if it was some rare and unique sight rather than an ordinary, battered piece of office furniture, even as he somewhat absently offered the coffee he was holding to her. "Oh, this is for you, to help get you through the evening."

"You brought me coffee?" She took a somewhat cautious sip of the coffee, only to have her eyes flutter closed at the burst of flavor on her tongue. "How did you know I like vanilla in my coffee?"

He gave her an odd look as if she'd just asked what day it was. "You used the vanilla creamer for your coffee at the loft."

That had been more than a week ago. She gave him a real smile, for the moment not even caring that her smile would likely give away her feelings for Castle to any cop who might be watching. "Nice observation. I guess I'll let you stick around for a while," she joked to cover for the silly flutter in her chest.

He smirked, his eyes so bright. "I believe I was promised a tour so lead on, Detective."

He looked and sounded ridiculously excited. She suppressed a smile as she took him to the conference room. What, he wanted to see police work then the piles of paper on the desk were a good representation of it. "This is the conference room—and Detective Ahmed Hassan, my senior detective. Sir, this is Rick Castle."

"Partner will do, Beckett," Hassan informed her dryly. "Always calling me 'senior detective' makes me sound like a dinosaur."

Kate had to steel her jaw to keep from gaping. He was accepting her as his partner now, not just the junior detective he was training? It was the best indication she'd been given so far that she actually was succeeding at the whole being-a-detective thing. She'd thought she was doing okay but Hassan, like most cops, was not given to praise so she'd only been able to assume that the absence of criticism was a good sign.

Hassan greeted Castle with a nod and shook his hand. "So you're Roy's poker buddy. He's mentioned you a couple times. And I guess I have you to thank for the pizza too."

Castle gave a genial smile. "Seemed like the least I can do for the people who serve and protect the city I love."

Hassan chuckled. "I wish more civilians felt like that."

"I consider it as something like an insurance policy to help get me out of trouble," Castle joked.

"That sounds more like bribery," she inserted dryly. "Ready to continue on your tour?"

"Oh, so ready!" Castle enthused. "Nice to meet you, Detective," he addressed Hassan before practically bouncing out of the conference room in her wake as she pointed out the sitting area and started towards the break room, only to realize halfway across the bullpen that he'd stopped following her.

He had gotten distracted by the murder board, she realized, was devouring it with his eyes. "What is that?" he blurted out as she retraced her steps to join him. She hadn't thought to include it on the tour but she'd apparently underestimated the extent of Castle's fascination with the whole process of solving a murder.

"It's our murder board."

"A murder board? You mean, that's how you work on your cases?" He sounded so excited and she didn't know why she found it to be so… cute except he really was, the way his expression lit up like a little boy's.

She bit back a smile. "Yeah, it's easier to keep track of the information we have when it's all together in one place."

He nodded, his expression morphing into thoughtfulness. "Yeah, I can see that. I have to do something similar when I'm plotting out stories."

She tamped down the little renegade thrill at this glimpse into his writing process. "Except what you do is fictional and our murder boards are what happen in reality," she noted dryly.

"Touché, Detective," he smirked at her. "So what's next on this tour?"

"The break room."

By now, she wasn't surprised at the glee with which he greeted the break room too.

"Oh, please tell me this is what the quintessential police station break room looks like."

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed. It was utterly utilitarian, the furnishings old, the appliances even older.

"It looks just like I imagined a police station break room to look, tough cops taking a moment to kick back. Ooh, can I try the coffee, get the flavor of some authentic police coffee?"

She sternly schooled her expression. If he wanted to try authentic police coffee, so be it. "Be my guest," she deadpanned.

He lit up as if she had just made one of his wishes come true as he reached for one of the mugs on the shelf and poured himself some coffee. Yeah, see how long that expression lasted.

"You're gonna want some cream and sugar," she advised him dryly. She didn't actually want to poison him after all.

He listened and then she waited, biting back a smirk, as he took an eager sip, only to choke and nearly gag before he managed to swallow it down.

She snickered. "Authentic enough for you?"

He pulled a face, shuddering. "Oh my god, that is… quite possibly the worst coffee I've ever tasted. You actually drink this stuff? And you're not dead?"

"It's free, it's hot, and it has caffeine." She shrugged.

"Well, yeah, but it might also be toxic. This is terrible." He took another sip and she couldn't help but grimace. He was voluntarily going back for more? Men and their steel-lined stomachs. "Huh, it's actually kinda fascinating. It tastes like… a monkey peed in battery acid."

She had to laugh. Leave it to a writer to come up with such a descriptive simile. "That's one way of putting it, Writer Boy. Don't worry, I won't be offended if you don't finish it."

He grinned at her as he dumped the rest of the toxic sludge that passed for coffee down the sink. "Taking mercy on me, Beckett?" he teased.

"I was actually thinking about Alexis," she joked. "I think she'd be sad if you got sick."

"Oh, I see how it is," he huffed, pulling a face of mock injury. "It really has nothing to do with me personally."

She gave in to the wish to touch him and patted his chest lightly, although she didn't dare allow her hand to linger, no matter what the temptation. "I think your ego will survive, Castle."

"Mean. And after I came all the way here just to bring you coffee too."

"I thought you came here to deliver the message to Captain Montgomery," she returned, shooting him what even she had to admit was a flirtatious look from beneath her lashes. In the middle of the precinct, no less! Oh god, she really did have it bad.

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "So I may have deliberately called Bob up to bug him a little and then volunteered to deliver the message to Montgomery." He shrugged a little, his face assuming his little-boy look. "What, I wanted an excuse to see you."

She hid her smile. How was it possible for a grown man in his 30's to be so damn adorable? "Why all the subterfuge and not simply ask to see me at the front desk?"

He met her eyes, dropping the sheepish act. "I figured you wouldn't want me to. I'm kind of… known so I tend to attract gossip and you mentioned that you already get a lot of attention from being the youngest female detective so I figured you wouldn't want to give the rumor mill a field day by having me show up, asking after you."

Oh. Oh, this _man_. Her chest felt tight with so much affection for him it was almost painful. Affection for this dear, sweet man, who knew her well enough to know she wouldn't like the inevitable gossip that would ensue and had tried to prevent it.

She could have kissed him. Wanted to kiss him.

She took an involuntary step towards him as his eyes flickered down to her mouth but before she could do something irrevocably stupid like kissing him in the middle of the precinct in full view of dozens of her colleagues, the moment was broken when Haskins walked in.

"Oh, hey, Beckett," he greeted her.

She tried to be subtle about stepping away from Castle as she nodded to Haskins. "Hey, Haskins. We'll get out of your way."

She left the break room, knowing Castle would follow her, and headed to the interrogation room, entirely unsurprised by now when he bounced on his feet, almost spinning around once he was inside.

"Oh, now this is truly awesome! And this is the famous one-way mirror?"

"This is it."

"So someone behind the glass could be watching us?"

"Yes."

He grimaced a little, looking a weird combination of fascinated and creeped out, and wandered away from the mirror to touch the walls—why?—the table, and finally dropped down into one of the chairs, shifting into different positions. "So is this where suspects sit?"

"Yes."

"How does it work, interrogation? Do you sit down too or do you stand or what? And how is it different, questioning witnesses versus interrogating the actual suspects?"

She rolled her eyes. "A lesson on how interrogation works will take longer than the 15 minutes you were allotted for this tour, you know," she informed him.

He pouted. "But will you tell me more about how it works some other time then?"

She sighed a little and sternly bit back a smile. "Yeah, sure, Castle."

That made him perk up again. "Ooh and will you go into the observation room now and then tap on the glass or something so I know you're in there?"

Oh lord. "Fine, Castle," she agreed, not even sure why she was accommodating him. (Oh fine, she did know why. It was because he was so cute and she just… liked him, found she didn't mind indulging his curiosity.) She obediently stepped into observation to see that Castle had stood up and was now engaged in making faces at the mirror, for her benefit, no doubt. He pulled a particularly silly face, sticking his tongue out and waggling his brows, and she erupted into a laugh, and realized he must have heard her muffled laugh because his expression changed, his eyes lighting up. "Wait, can you hear me too?" he asked.

She tapped on the glass to indicate she could and he let out a sound like a squeal of excitement. She returned to look into the interrogation room, raising her eyebrows at him. "Happy now?"

He grinned at her unabashed. "Oh, so happy. Ooh wait, now you stay in here and I'll go into the observation room so I can see what it's like. And say something once I'm in there so I can hear you."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop telling me what to do, Castle," she retorted but knew there was no bite in the words. She perched on the table, her arms crossed, facing the mirror—mostly for his benefit—and waited a moment before she heard a tap from him. "You realize this is ridiculous," she said aloud and heard a muffled sound like a crow of glee.

"You are way too excited about this," she told him as she joined him in the observation room.

"Are you kidding, Kate? This is amazing! When I get home, I'm going to need to write down everything about this place. How often do other cops observe interrogations?"

"Most of the time, actually. Almost every time we're in the box with a suspect, one or more of the other cops working on the case is watching, see if they catch something we don't, or if the suspect gives us some more information, the other cop can go check the new information."

"You call the interrogation room the box?"

"It's shorter," she shrugged.

"This is all so cool!"

"I can see you're really devastated that I had to cancel our date," she observed dryly.

He promptly sobered. "Kate, no, I didn't mean it like that."

She relented and smiled. "I was teasing, Castle."

He stepped closer to her, sliding his hand along her waist. "Well, I'm happy to reassure you," he husked, igniting flares of heat from his touch and his tone and the look in his eyes.

It took a concerted effort not to step into his arms but rather to step back instead. "Not here, Castle."

He pretended to sigh. "I know. I'll behave."

Well, they could find a modicum of privacy, at least for a minute or two… She really hadn't intended this but she couldn't resist, tugging briefly on his jacket. "Come on, Castle, tour's not over yet."

She glanced around, happy to see that people weren't really paying attention to them at all, and led Castle around the corner to the deserted hallway leading to evidence storage.

"Kate, where—"

Kate cut him off with her mouth, gently pushing him back against the wall.

He stiffened in surprise but only for a half-second before kissing her back, his arms banding around her waist and pulling her against him as he parted his lips for the slick of her tongue.

She reluctantly broke off the kiss before it could get too heated, aware of the fact that they were still in the precinct and standing in a hallway where anyone who ventured around the corner could see them. But for all that, she couldn't quite make herself step away from him just yet, stayed within the circle of his arms. "That was what I wanted to show you," she told him a little breathlessly.

His smiling mouth dipped in to taste hers for another second. "I'll have to think about it but that might be the most interesting thing you've shown me tonight," he teased.

She muffled her laugh against his cheek. "Only might? I guess I'll need to practice my kissing."

"I volunteer for your practicing," he offered immediately.

She snickered, letting her lips trail along his chin.

He tilted his head to allow her easier access. "Let's reschedule our date," he panted, "After you solve this case?"

She lifted her head to look at him. "Thursday?" she suggested. That gave them a couple days to solve the case and she knew that, realistically, most homicides were solved in the first few days or not at all.

He nodded. "We'll plan for that," he agreed. "I'm not sure if my mother will be able to watch Alexis again but if not, I'll check with Alexis's usual babysitter, a girl who lives in our building."

"Okay." She brushed her lips against his one last time and then, reluctantly, made herself step away from him. "Come on, Castle, I'm pretty sure we've run over your promised 15 minutes."

He made a half-hearted attempt to tug her back against him—half-hearted because she was easily able to dodge him and when she gave him a mock-scolding look, he gave her one of his adorably sheepish little-boy looks. "I was never a scout."

She huffed a laugh. "Well, I still need to get back to work."

He heaved a mock sigh and followed her around the corner and back towards the bustle of the bullpen.

She led him back to the elevator before turning to face him again, schooling her expression into something as close to her usual Detective Beckett expression as she could. "I hope you enjoyed your tour, Mr. Castle."

His eyes sparked with suppressed laughter at her formality but he played along. "I did. Thank Captain Montgomery for me, Detective."

The elevator door opened and he stepped into it and she glanced around quickly before reaching out to briefly brush his hand with hers. "Good night, Castle."

"See you later, Detective." There was a note in his voice that reminded her of his earlier invitation to go back to the loft if she finished work before it was too late. She just might…

The elevator door slid closed, leaving Kate to return to her desk to quickly eat her now-cool slice of pizza, but aware of a little lift in her heart, a little more energy in her spirit, as she returned to work.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I won't be able to post next week because of the holidays so apologies in advance for the longer-than-usual wait until the next chapter. I hope everyone has very happy holidays!


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: Apologies for the wait but without further ado, I give you Castle and Beckett's first real date. Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 29_

They solved their case early Thursday afternoon.

Kate bit back an entirely unseemly, un-cop-like smile as she sent Castle a text message to that effect and confirmed that their date could still go forward.

His response came within a few minutes, the number of exclamation marks he included leaving no doubt about his excitement, followed almost immediately by the more practical question of whether he should pick her up at the precinct or at her apartment for their dinner reservation.

She had brought her dress to work just in case but she really didn't want to change into it here because she could imagine just how much gossip would be generated from the mere sight of her dressed up so clearly for a date. Yeah, she really did not need that sort of gossip.

It would probably be cutting it close but she told Castle he could pick her up at her apartment at 7.

She did cut it close. It was 6:23 when she returned to her apartment and had to rush through a quick shower before slipping into the minimalist underwear she had picked out and then the new dress she'd bought. It was a red cocktail dress with a single flutter sleeve that left one shoulder entirely bare, simply cut but with just enough of a hint of a ruffle to keep it from looking too severe. And with heels, she knew it would accentuate the length of her legs.

Thankfully, as it happened, she had just stepped into one of her heels when she heard Castle's knock on her door. She hurriedly slipped on the other heel and checked the mirror one last time, satisfied that she looked good enough to impress Castle, before she opened the door.

"Hey, Castle."

Castle was impressed. His eyes flared wide with approval and some arousal too, his jaw going a little slack. "Hi, you look…" He trailed off, his eyes wandering down the length of her body, lingering for just a moment on her chest and her legs, before moving back up again to meet her eyes. "You look amazing."

She smiled, feeling a blush heat her cheeks, her neck. "Thanks." So did he, in a well-cut dark suit that seemed to showcase his height and the breadth of his shoulders, the dark maroon of his shirt bringing out the blue of his eyes by contrast. He looked like the dashing, eligible bachelor he was—and he was there for _her_. She felt a renegade thrill zip through her, mingled in with a flash of desire. He hadn't chosen to wear a tie but she decided she liked that better because with the top buttons of his shirt left undone, it left the little hollow of his neck just below his Adam's apple bare. She wanted to press her lips to that spot. Later, she promised herself.

"I brought you these." He offered her a brightly colored bouquet of tulips.

"Thank you. They're lovely." Their fingers brushed as she accepted the bouquet and he took the opportunity to step closer to her, leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek. She bit her lower lip to try to hold back her smile—okay, maybe not entirely for that reason—and looked up at him and his smile deepened as he accepted her invitation and kissed her lips.

She really liked his kisses.

The bouquet rather got in the way, keeping the kiss brief.

"I'll just be a minute to put these away."

She returned to her kitchen, having to reach into the back of her cabinet to dig out a vase to put the flowers in. Come to think of it, when was the last time a man had given her flowers? She couldn't even remember.

She set the flowers on the kitchen counter, having to appreciate the way they immediately seemed to add cheer to the room, and returned to her living room to see Castle perusing her bookshelves.

Which meant that he would have seen the shelf full of his books.

"You have a very eclectic collection of books." He paused and then the smirk tugging on his lips gave him away before he added, "Including your Richard Castle collection."

"Yeah, yeah, Castle, you knew I read your books." She fought back a blush.

He waggled his eyebrows at her teasingly. "Well, yes, but that's not quite the same as having just about every book I've ever written, all neatly organized too."

She spared a moment to be glad that a couple of his books—the ones that meant the most to her—were out of sight in her bedroom so it wasn't quite so immediately obvious that she did, in fact, own every book he'd ever written. "Do you want to stay here and gloat or are you going to take me out to dinner?"

Put like that, he made haste to join her by the door, helping her into her wrap and only pausing to dust his lips along her bare shoulder, sending a little shiver rippling through her. On second thought, they could always order in.

No, no, she scolded her unruly senses, they could do the ordering in some other time, not for their first real date.

She wasn't surprised to see the fancy town car waiting outside her apartment building and the smiling, familiar face of the same driver who had driven them to the zoo the other day. "Hello, Frank."

He clearly remembered her too, smiling and nodding at her. "Good evening, Miss Beckett."

Frank opened the door for them and they slid into the back seat, with Castle taking her hand in his and placing it on his thigh, idly playing with her fingers.

"It's not too much, is it?" he murmured into her ear.

"What?" she blinked at him, a little confused. He couldn't be wondering if his holding her hand was too much.

He waved his free hand to indicate their surroundings. "The car and the driver. It's not too much?"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He really was sweet. "It's not too much. It might be if we used it every day but for our first date, it's okay."

"Okay, good." He leaned towards her in his turn but then, as her eyes drifted closed, surprised her by pecking the tip of her nose rather than kissing her mouth, making her laugh.

He grinned at her, before sobering a little. "You closed your case, huh? So what happened to Dr. Ziskind?"

He had, after all, seen the murder board about the case. Talking about murder on a date was a little odd but then again, this was Castle so it wasn't unusual for them. She gave him a short summary of how Dr. Ziskind had a gambling habit that he had kept hidden from his wife and friends.

"Have I mentioned that it is so cool that you're a Detective?"

"You might have mentioned it once or twice," she returned dryly.

He only grinned at her. "Well, it's worth repeating," he said blithely as the car pulled up to the curb and slowed to a stop. "And here we are."

Where was "here"? She was curious to see what sort of place Castle chose for their first date, a tiny corner of her wondering if he would go all out to some glitzy, ostentatious place, but "here" turned out to be almost the exact opposite of her vague apprehensions. He had brought her to a quiet, almost nondescript restaurant, at least from the outside, and the interior was elegant, discreet. The maître d' greeted Castle familiarly and led them towards the back to a semi-enclosed booth with plush benches, allowing for a modicum of privacy. It was lovely.

She smiled at Castle, reminded again that whatever Page Six might say about him, Castle himself was not the over-the-top celebrity, was more down-to-earth than that. "Nice place."

"Yeah, I like it. I was last here for my mother's birthday with my mother and Alexis."

She was marginally surprised because even from the one time she'd met Martha, she would have expected that Martha Rodgers would prefer a louder, more public atmosphere but she chose not to comment. And as it happened, Castle seemed to guess her thoughts because he added easily, "Coming here was sort of a compromise option because my mother tends to like more showy restaurants but I prefer not taking Alexis to restaurants where she might be photographed."

A waiter approached to tell them the specials of the day and then left with a promise to return in a few minutes.

"Since you've been here before, what would you recommend?" she asked.

"Everything I've tried here has been good. Last time, Alexis ordered the chicken and she liked it. The salmon is also good if you want seafood."

The waiter returned for their orders and Kate decided to order the chicken—flashing Castle a smile with the aside, "I trust Alexis's opinion"—while Castle ordered steak, as she had rather expected he would. When had she started to become familiar with Castle's food preferences? She wasn't sure but it abruptly struck her as a very girlfriend-like knowledge. Huh, it was weirdly… nice to think that she was getting to know Castle so well.

"How is Alexis?" she asked as the waiter left. She had accepted Castle's invitation the other day and gone over to the loft after she and Hassan had finished going through the vic's financial records but Alexis had already been asleep and then the next morning, she'd had to leave to return to her apartment to get ready for work before Alexis had woken up so she hadn't seen Alexis since the weekend.

His expression softened as always at the mention of his daughter but for the first time, she noticed that it was accompanied by a little flicker of something darker than that too, something like worry. Was something the matter with Alexis? But then, how could Castle still be out on their date? "She's fine. She says hi and that she misses seeing you."

Her heart clenched a little. "I miss seeing her too," she murmured and she really did—even if she didn't know when or how that had happened. It wasn't like she was used to seeing Alexis every day and yet, somehow, she missed the little girl after not seeing her for a few days, missed the sight of her smile and the sound of her laughter.

Again, some expression she couldn't identify flitted across his face—or no, was it a tinge of anger—before it was chased away by a smile. But for once, the sight of his smile made her stomach churn because it wasn't his usual smile, it seemed forced. "Thank you for that."

She leaned forward, impulsively reaching out to touch his hand. "Castle, is something wrong?"

He blinked and then pasted on a charming smile. "I'm on a date with a beautiful woman, what could possibly be wrong?"

She almost recoiled. She did stiffen a little. For almost the first time in her memory, he sounded like the glib playboy she had rather been expecting when they'd met. "Castle, don't." In her sudden spasm of nervousness—what could have gone wrong so suddenly on their first date?—her voice came out harsher than she'd meant it and he abruptly straightened, an arrested expression on his face.

Things had been going so well between them, even in spite of her having to cancel their originally scheduled date on Tuesday—but maybe that was it, things had been going too well. Too good to last. Oh god. She hadn't noticed anything wrong earlier but maybe she'd been fooling herself. "Castle, what is it? Did I… do something…"

She hated— _hated_ —how vulnerable she sounded but she couldn't seem to help it but for once, it helped because Castle seemed to jolt, grasping for her hand. "Did _you_ —no!" He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to her palm that sent jolts of heat streaking up her arm. "God, Kate, it has nothing to do with you. You are the best thing that's happened all day."

There was enough fervor in his voice that it made her cheeks heat, her heart skipping in her chest as she relaxed. "Oh, okay. But something is wrong?"

He grimaced a little. "It's fine. It's nothing, really."

"It's not nothing," she contradicted. "I can see that. It's something to do with Alexis?" she guessed. It was the mention of Alexis that had started it after all.

"Sort of."

"You can talk to me, you know. I care about Alexis too."

"Too?" A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his expression brightening.

She blushed. "Shut up. You knew that already. And stop trying to distract me."

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Detective, remember?"

He perked up. "Ooh, is that an interrogation technique? You did say you'd tell me more about it."

"Castle." Castle wasn't a liar but he did tend to deflect when he didn't want to talk about something, she was starting to realize. They were alike in that. "If you don't want to talk to me about it, just tell me that."

He hesitated. "It's not that I don't want to talk to you—"

At that inopportune moment, they were interrupted by the waiter returning with the wine they had ordered.

After the waiter left, she raised her eyebrows at him. "So what is it?"

He made a face. "I'm pretty sure talking about another woman while on a date breaks every commandment about dating."

She huffed a laugh. "I'd hardly call Alexis another woman."

"Huh?" He grimaced. "Oh god, no, I wasn't talking about Alexis; I was talking about Meredith."

She stiffened and schooled her expression not to react. His ex-wife. "Oh," was all she said, dumbly. He was thinking about his ex-wife while on their date? Not like that, she knew it wouldn't be like that. She trusted Castle.

"Nothing like that, Kate," he hurriedly assured her, reaching for her hand again and holding it in his. "It's only… she called me earlier today and I'm… having an ethical and parental dilemma, I guess," he said with a huff that tried to be a laugh and failed.

"What's worrying you about Alexis?"

He hesitated. "You're sure you don't mind? This isn't exactly good first date conversation."

"We'll have other dates. And if it's to do with Alexis, I do want to know."

A smile flashed across his face at the mention of other dates before he sobered. "It's Meredith that's the problem. She called to tell me she's going to be visiting for Mother's Day."

Oh. She supposed that would give her a chance to meet Castle's ex-wife then. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. "Oh, well, won't Alexis be happy about that?" And if it would make Alexis happy, that was really all that mattered.

He made a face. "It would, assuming she actually shows up this time," he muttered, somewhat to himself.

She suddenly remembered the way Alexis had said so matter-of-factly that her mom didn't try to keep her promises. And Kate remembered too that the first time she'd met Castle, he'd been worrying about Alexis because Meredith had reneged on her promise to come visit for Thanksgiving. Yeah, Kate didn't think she would like Meredith.

She stayed quiet though because, well, this was somewhat fraught territory and it wasn't like she'd ever met Meredith after all.

Castle shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that surprised Kate a little, it was so… uncharacteristic of him, of the cheerful optimistic nature she associated with him. He didn't look like either the dashing bachelor or the excited little boy he had resembled during his tour of the precinct. Now he looked like… well, he looked like what he was, a single father worried about his daughter. It was the side of him she had seen the first time they met and it occurred to her that it was seeing this side of him that had made her trust him. It might be the side of him she liked the best.

He looked, she thought, not for the first time, lonely. She had wondered about it before, months ago, but she knew him better now and she knew it was true. In this, when it came to taking care of Alexis, he was alone. Martha was clearly a loving grandmother but she wasn't always around and in the end, the responsibility—the burden—was Castle's and his alone.

But that didn't need to be entirely true anymore. This was what her dad had been talking about. If her relationship with Castle was going to last—even if she was still a little surprised and a lot terrified sometimes at how fiercely she wanted this relationship to work out—she needed to take some responsibility too.

But it wasn't only that. She wanted to. This was the other side of the coin of caring about Castle—she wanted to help him, wanted to smooth the frown from his forehead, wanted to see him smile again.

It was her turn to reach out and take his hand, making him look at her and then move his other hand to cover hers, his expression already smoothing out a little.

"You're worried about Alexis?" It wasn't exactly a question.

"Can I ask you something?" he blurted out.

She blinked, a little nonplussed. "Of course."

"I want to know your opinion. I've been thinking, maybe I shouldn't tell Alexis that Meredith is coming to visit. I just… I don't trust Meredith to keep her promise and I can't stand to see Alexis be disappointed again. If I don't tell Alexis and Meredith does come, then it'll be a nice surprise for Alexis but if Meredith cancels again, Alexis won't be hurt."

Oh, that was what he'd meant by an ethical and a parental dilemma. And he was asking her. He really did trust her, didn't he? She looked at their joined hands for a moment and then back up at him. "You really want my opinion?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"I understand your reasoning but I just wonder, what would happen if Alexis finds out that you kept something like this from her? She talks to her mom too, doesn't she?"

He grimaced. "Yes, she talks to Meredith too, of course she does."

"Alexis trusts you, Castle, and you said yourself that you try never to lie to Alexis."

He sighed. "You're right. I just… I hate seeing Alexis get hurt."

"I know you do but it doesn't mean keeping something like this from Alexis is the right thing to do either. All you can do is be there for Alexis and from what I've seen of Alexis, I'd say you're pretty good at cheering her up."

The ghost of a smile just touched his lips. "Thanks. You aren't so bad at it yourself."

"I like Alexis. It's easy to be nice to her."

He tightened his grip on her hands. "Thank you, Kate, really."

She felt herself flush at the look in his eyes, warmth blossoming in her chest. "You don't have to thank me, Castle. You can pay me back by making more of your tiramisu for me," she joked, taking refuge behind humor. It was easier—and yes, she wanted to make him smile too.

It worked. His expression cleared, brightened, as he grinned. "That, I can do."

The arrival of their food caused an inevitable break in their conversation—and had him releasing his grip on her hand—but that might have been fine too. They had talked seriously and now they could try to return to something more like typical date conversation.

Well, maybe not exactly typical date conversation. Castle took the opportunity to return to asking her about interrogation and after rolling her eyes at him, she gave in and launched into a crash course on interrogation techniques and witness questioning as they ate. Not something she had ever talked about on a date or imagined talking about on a date but Castle was clearly fascinated, his eyes bright and focused on her face as he peppered her with questions.

She felt an odd, visceral tug of attraction that had nothing to do with the physical just from the way he listened to her, looked at her as if she was fascinating. It was a heady feeling because she really wasn't that fascinating but somehow, he seemed to think so. And it made her stomach flip.

After she exhausted her store of knowledge about interrogation, conversation easily shifted into a lighter vein with Castle relating funny stories about encounters with pushy fans asking intrusive questions and from book tours he had been on and she told him a few of the humorous incidents from work and the Academy. It was a little surprising, still, how easy and fun it was to talk to Castle but it really was. She liked talking to him, just liked _him_ so much—almost frighteningly much—but there it was.

What with the delicious food and talking and laughter, dinner sped by and Kate was a little surprised when the waiter returned to ask if they wanted to look at the dessert menu. Before she could even look towards Castle, he forestalled her by quickly saying they wouldn't have dessert, only needed the check. He was cutting their date short?

The waiter left and Castle turned back to her, explaining "I have other plans for dessert."

Oh, well, in that case... She quirked her eyebrows at him teasingly. "Oh, you do, do you? And don't I get a say in these other plans?"

He looked so adorably pleased with himself. "Nope. I've planned this evening out very carefully and you'll like it."

"That sure of yourself, huh, Castle?"

"Yes. I'm an expert at wooing women." The moment the words fell from his mouth, he realized what he'd said, his eyes widening. "Not like that! Well, yes, a little like that, not that I plan to be wooing anyone—" he broke off. "You know what, I'm just going to shut up now." He made an apologetic face. "Sorry, that did not come out right. I didn't mean to sound like that."

His obvious embarrassment and remorse made her soften, letting a laugh bubble out of her. "It's all right, Castle. I know you didn't mean it like that."

Castle greeted the waiter with the check with an alacrity that the waiter must rarely see and thanks to Castle's eagerness, they left the restaurant within the space of a few minutes where they found Frank waiting by the town car.

Frank appeared to know where they were headed because Castle didn't bother telling Frank their destination. The car had barely moved away from the curb before Castle was sliding his hand behind her neck until she turned to look at him and he leaned in to capture her lips with his. Her whole body relaxed into him as he nibbled lightly on her lip and her little sigh was swallowed by his mouth. Oh, yes, this was what she'd been expecting, hoping would happen on this drive. Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him in place, not that he showed any inclination to go anywhere as his mouth leisurely sipped at hers, keeping the kiss slow and lazy but still, oh so good.

Her mind had gone deliciously blank so she was startled when he ended the kiss(es), had to blink a few times before regaining some measure of coherence. God, what this man could do to her.

It was something of a relief to see that he had to do the same, looked a little wild-eyed, his breath uneven, his hair disarranged thanks to her fingers (she wasn't at all sorry). "Ah, right," he began, looking out the window and then back at her. "We're getting close so will you do me a favor and close your eyes? I want to surprise you."

She narrowed her eyes at him in mock warning. "This better be good, Castle."

"Do you trust me?"

 _Yes._ It wasn't the sort of thing she found it easy to say, though, so she only made a show of closing her eyes tightly, hoping the gesture spoke for her. He appeared to understand because he brushed a quick kiss against her lips as if in thanks.

It was about a minute before she felt the car turning and slowing to a stop at the curb and she resisted the urge to open her eyes as she heard Castle exit the car and then felt him take her hand to gently guide her out of it. It was an amazingly vulnerable thing, stepping out into the noise of a Manhattan sidewalk without being able to see. She couldn't think of another person she would have trusted like this and felt a flutter of nerves rising in her chest. She didn't _do_ this sort of thing, trust easily or completely.

"It's not far, Kate, just follow me."

Before her nerves could morph into more, Castle had led her by the hand the space of a few yards, somehow managing to neatly skirt other pedestrians, and she heard him opening a door, the tinkle of a bell. And then he was pulling her into a restaurant—no, not a restaurant. The air felt warm, smelled sweet. Well, they were here for dessert.

"Just a second."

She heard Castle exchange a few quiet words with someone, thanking them, and then heard retreating footsteps and a few quiet sounds before Castle said, "Okay, open your eyes."

She did. Her heart stuttered in her chest. Oh, this _man_. He had brought her to the cupcake bakery where they had first met on her terrible, wonderful birthday. More than that, he had clearly arranged for it to be reserved just for them because, not only was the bakery empty of anyone else including an employee, the space had been rearranged so there was one small table in pride of place with a bud vase with a single red carnation in it sitting on the table. And she thought it might be the carnation that had her chest feeling so tight with affection. She vaguely remembered mentioning in passing that she didn't much like red roses after working a case last year of a florist who'd been shot in a hold up. It had been one of the early stories from work she had told Castle months ago and he remembered.

She stepped forward, catching his face between her hands, and giving him a fast, hard kiss. "Thank you."

It was a totally inadequate thing to say but it was as much as she could manage.

Luckily, he appeared to be entirely satisfied with her reaction, smiling as he returned her kiss. "Happy first date."

A laugh bubbled out of her. He was ridiculous but oh so dear. "Happy first date, Castle."

He stepped away in order to pull back a chair with a flourish. "Now, what kind of cupcake would you like?"

Kate chose a chocolate cupcake while Castle settled on red velvet. They ate their cupcakes mostly in silence, punctuated by the occasional glimmering smile. When they were finished, Castle cleared the table again except for the bud vase and then returned to her, giving her another of his small, private smiles. Their eyes met and held as the very air seemed to shimmer between them and Kate's lungs seemed to momentarily find it hard to function.

"You know what I thought when I first met you?" Castle asked, his voice quiet.

"'Who is this crazy blind person who just ruined my jacket?'" she offered facetiously.

He laughed, his eyes lighting up with humor. "Hey, don't mock the way we met. I consider it the luckiest accident of my life," he said lightly enough, even as the butterflies took flight in her stomach at the implied declaration he was making.

It might be true for her too. If she hadn't crashed into him the way she had, she would have fled the bakery immediately and it would never have mattered that she and Castle had been in the same room. They would have passed each other like ships in the night and never known otherwise. The very thought had her stomach clenching.

He sobered, lifting one hand to trace her cheek, her chin, with gentle fingers. "I thought that I wanted to see you smile."

That was enough to make her grant him his wish and smile. She couldn't help it.

His lips curved slightly in return. "I also thought," he went on, his voice lowering, "that you were a mystery I would never solve."

Only a mystery writer would phrase it like that...

"And even after getting to know you so much better, I still think that. I'm still amazed at the depths of your strength, your heart."

Oh god, his words…

His lips quirked up into the beginnings of a smirk. "And your hotness."

She choked on a laugh. Only Castle. "You're not so bad yourself," she managed to husk although her mouth had gone dry.

She had no idea which of them moved first, not that it mattered, as his hand cupped her cheek and hers rose to rest on his shoulder as their lips met. The kiss was a soft, gentle thing, a lingering exploration of each other's mouths, more tender than passionate.

Castle drew back slowly, just enough to end the kiss even as their noses still brushed and their breaths still mingled. "Come home with me?" he asked, his voice somewhat breathless.

In answer, Kate smudged his lips with hers again. "Yes." As if she'd ever had any intention of not going back to the loft with him after their date. She still wanted to have him entirely to herself in her own apartment but she knew that couldn't happen tonight, with Alexis at home with a babysitter.

That settled, they left the bakery within minutes, Castle assuring her that he'd already arranged for things to be cleaned up after them.

It was a few minutes after 10 o'clock when they stepped into the loft to see a gangly teenage girl sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine.

The girl looked up and put the magazine down as she smiled. "Hi, Mr. Castle. You must be Kate," she added, turning her smile to Kate.

Kate returned the girl's smile. She guessed the girl was 16 or so, cute, with something of the lanky grace of a young colt about her as she stood up. "Hi, and yes, I am."

"Hi, Katrina," Castle greeted. "Thanks for watching Alexis tonight. Is she asleep?"

"Yeah, she went to bed around an hour ago. We had a good time tonight. She beat me at Twister," Katrina grinned. "And then we had some ice cream as my consolation prize, she said."

Castle chuckled softly. "Your consolation prize or her victory prize?"

Katrina shrugged and laughed. "Does it matter?"

Castle handed Katrina a couple bills as they reached the front door. "Well, thanks again, Katrina. Say hi to your parents for me and have a good night."

"Good night, Mr. Castle. Night, Kate."

"Good night, Katrina," Kate offered.

Castle turned back to Kate as he closed the door behind Katrina. "Katrina lives downstairs on the 3rd floor. She's become more of a friend to Alexis than just a babysitter."

"That's nice that they're friends."

"Yeah, Katrina's a good kid." He slipped his hand into hers as he headed towards the stairs, no doubt to check on Alexis. She followed willingly, wondering when and how it seemed so natural that she would accompany him upstairs to check on Alexis. She hadn't before, not since that first night she showed up here after the Trevor Adelson case, but it didn't seem unusual now.

He eased Alexis's door open quietly and only then released Kate's hand to pad over to the girl's bedside, bending to brush a hand lightly over Alexis's bright hair. But as it happened, all his care turned out to be wasted because Alexis stirred, blinking sleepy eyes at her dad. "Daddy?" she mumbled, her voice foggy with sleep.

He crouched down by her bed. "Yeah, pumpkin, it's me," he whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

Instead, Alexis yawned a little, rubbing her eyes like an adorable bear cub emerging from hibernation. "Is Kate with you?"

Kate stepped forward from where she'd been lingering in the doorway. "Yeah, Alexis, I'm here."

Alexis lifted her head, looking a little more awake as she looked eagerly at Kate in the dimness of her room. "Kate, you look so pretty. I wanted to stay up to see you but I got sleepy," she explained.

"Thank you, Alexis," Kate said quietly, bending over the bed. "But it's late and you should probably sleep."

Alexis nodded, reaching out one hand to grasp Kate's. "But I'm glad you came over, Kate."

"I am too." And god, that was terrifyingly true. It was overwhelming and scary too, the way she could feel herself getting so drawn into this family, but somehow, for all that, it also felt… comfortable.

Kate reached out and stroked Alexis's hair gently. "Go back to sleep, Alexis. Good night."

Castle in turn resettled the blankets over Alexis and bent to kiss her forehead. "Sleep tight, munchkin."

Alexis yawned, her eyes already falling closed. "G'night, Daddy, g'night, Kate."

Kate straightened up and felt Castle slide his arm around her waist as they watched Alexis for another minute or so before he signaled that they could leave with a tightening of his hand on her side.

The moment they were out in the hallway, he was backing her up against the wall and kissing her fiercely, his tongue sliding easily past her lips as he swallowed her little gasp.

She sagged against him when he eventually released her, thoroughly discombobulated as only he could do to her.

"Do you have any idea how much I adore the way you care about my daughter?" he husked against her cheek.

She turned her head so her nose was nudging his and then kissed him again. "I think I have some idea," she managed to say, "but why don't you take me to bed and show me how much you appreciate me instead?"

He huffed a laugh that was almost smothered by the press of her mouth. And then he did just that, proceeding to appreciate every inch of her with his hands and his lips and his tongue until she felt like a blissful, boneless puddle in his bed.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Here's wishing you all a very happy 2019!


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: Judging from the relative lack of reviews to the last chapter, I'm not sure how people will react to this one, in which nothing much actually happens. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 30_

It wasn't until Kate was in the elevator heading towards Castle's loft that it dawned on her what she was about to do, or rather the significance of what she was about to do.

She'd been on shift this weekend and so she'd spent the better part of the day at the precinct taking care of paperwork and when her shift ended, she hadn't tried to resist the urge to accept Castle's invitation and come over for the night. Again.

She had stayed the night on Thursday after their first real date, then again on Friday after work and then yesterday night after meeting her dad for dinner, and now here she was again. For the fourth night in a row.

And come to think of it, the fifth night in the last week alone that she would be spending here.

Oh. It was too much, too fast. Should have been too much, too fast?

Because even though she wasn't used to spending this much time with anyone, wasn't used to sharing a bed with anyone, somehow, with Castle, it didn't feel like too much. It wasn't as if Castle was pressuring her into coming over; he wasn't at all, always simply left the invitation open. She was the one who kept accepting the invitation, kept giving in to the wish to see him.

She was just… addicted to him, she thought. Addicted to his smiles and his humor. Addicted to his kisses and his touches—god, yes, was she addicted to the way he kissed her and touched her.

And even though a tiny, cautious part of her told her she should try to take things slower, to allow her to survive it when—if—this relationship ended, she couldn't seem to stay away. Not from him or from Alexis either. Couldn't resist the warmth and comfort of the loft, the easy, so welcoming affection of Castle and Alexis.

So here she was, for the fourth night in a row. And since she was already here, it would be stupid to make the trek back to her solitary apartment just to prove to herself that she could resist the pull that Castle had on her.

She was just stepping off the elevator at Castle's floor when the door of the loft swung open, startling her a little, and Martha breezed out, pausing as her eyes found Kate.

"Why, Katherine, isn't this delightful!"

Kate managed a smile for her boyfriend's mother—oh god, that was not a helpful appellation. "Hi, Martha. It's nice to see you too."

"Richard didn't mention you were coming over," Martha commented before turning to call over her shoulder, "Richard, Katherine's here."

"Oh, I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it," Kate explained.

The awkwardness was dispelled as Castle and Alexis both spilled out the door.

"Kate, you came!" Alexis sounded and looked delighted as she hugged Kate.

"Yes, I made it," Kate answered, returning the girl's hug. "I finished up my paperwork in time and we didn't get any new cases," she added, more for Castle's benefit than Alexis's.

Castle slipped an arm around her shoulders, brushing his lips against her temple. "Hey, Beckett."

He was calling her Beckett more often, she absently noted, since he had visited her in the precinct.

She exchanged a small, private smile with him as she leaned into him a little, unable to resist nuzzling the hollow of his throat just below his Adam's apple, a spot she loved for some reason she couldn't identify and that was conveniently left bare by the open collar of his shirt. Another thing she was becoming addicted to, his scent.

She was reminded of their audience when she heard the sound of Alexis's muffled giggle and whispered comment, "They act like that a lot."

Oh right, crap. Kate hastily straightened up, pulling herself out of Castle's embrace, feeling her cheeks catch fire. "Sorry, Alexis, Martha."

Martha waved a hand. "Oh, I'm not one to judge but Richard, do try to keep it appropriate in front of your daughter."

"I do, not that you're one to talk, Mother, and aren't you running late?" he inquired. "Now I need to go see to dinner. Good night, Mother." He squeezed Kate's arm. "See you inside," he added to her, his voice softer.

"I'll help, Daddy," Alexis volunteered. "Bye, Grams!"

"Bye, darling."

And before Kate could comment or escape, Alexis had skipped back into the loft, leaving her alone in the hallway with Martha.

"Ah, you're not staying for dinner?" she ventured, trying to sound totally natural.

"No, I already have dinner plans this evening." Martha tugged Kate into a scented embrace, brushing a kiss against her cheek. "But I am so glad I didn't miss seeing you, Katherine. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me, for what?"

Martha's expression softened. "I have not seen my son or my granddaughter this happy in a long while and I know it's due to you."

Kate flushed, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. She didn't know how much she had really done but she hoped… "They make me happy too," she admitted, not quite smoothly.

Martha's smile broadened. "That's the way it should be."

The elevator door slid open and Martha patted Kate on the cheek before stepping into it. "Now, you go on. I'm sure Alexis is waiting for you. Have a good night, Katherine."

"Good night, Martha."

True to Martha's prediction, Alexis came skipping towards Kate the moment she stepped into the loft.

"Kate!" The girl came to a stop in front of Kate. "Did Grams want to talk to you a little? I thought she might."

Kate's steps stuttered a little. "We did talk but what made you think your grandmother wanted to talk to me?"

"I think Grams wanted to since she found out about you and Daddy dating." Alexis dimpled into a flash of mischief, somehow managing to look mature at the same time. "So she could ask you your intentions."

Kate choked on a laugh. "My intentions?" She pretended to think about it. "Well, my intentions are to have a nice dinner with you and your dad and maybe watch a movie after. What do you think, Miss Castle?"

Alexis nodded seriously. "I approve." And then her expression lit up with a smile, in a lightning-quick change of expression that reminded Kate of Castle, as she went on brightly, "Grams bought me some new clothes. Do you want to come up and see them, Kate?"

"Sure." Kate's curiosity was real since from what she'd seen of Martha, her taste in clothing tended towards the eye-poppingly bright so she wondered if Martha also displayed the same taste in the clothes she bought for her granddaughter.

Alexis slipped her hand into Kate's and led her up the stairs to her room. "See, look!" The girl proceeded to display a blue shirt with a sequined butterfly on it, a daffodil-yellow sweater with a small daisy pin on one shoulder and a matching yellow and white checked skirt, and finally a pair of jeans enlivened by embroidered flower patches along the hem of the legs. The clothes were colorful, yes, but not excessively so, and Kate could imagine that Alexis would look adorable in them.

Kate duly complimented the outfits—and meant it—and Alexis beamed.

"Thanks. I like them too." Alexis sobered and added in a quieter voice, "Sometimes, I don't always like the clothes Grams picks out for me, even though I tell her I do. That's okay, right, Kate?"

Kate sternly suppressed the urge to laugh at how remorseful Alexis looked and sounded. "I think that's fine, Alexis. As long as you still remember to thank your grandmother when she buys you things, you're not required to always like them."

Alexis brightened. "Thanks, Kate. That makes me feel better. I like the clothes you wear. You always look so nice and grown-up."

Trust a little kid to use "grown-up" as a compliment. "Thank you, Alexis. I kind of have to dress like this for work but I'm glad you like it." She made a mental note to inform Lanie of Alexis's compliment the next time Lanie gave her a hard time about her clothing choices.

"Daddy isn't very good at taking me shopping for clothes," Alexis confided as they left her room. "He always tells me I look good in everything but I know that can't be true," she said seriously. "But my Mommy is coming to visit next weekend and she'll probably take me shopping and she's better at it. Mommy likes to take me shopping," she added as they reached the bottom of the steps, "but I think that's mostly because Mommy just likes to shop."

Kate hid a wince at the implication, whether intentional or not (she doubted it was intentional), that Meredith might not actually like to spend time with Alexis for her own sake but Alexis looked serenely unaware of any subtext. "That sounds like fun. Are you looking forward to your mom's visit?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh. I haven't seen her since before Christmas so it's been months and months and Mommy said she'll be able to spend the entire weekend with me." She broke off, abruptly looking stricken and Kate's heart seemed to clench. Was Alexis hurting over how infrequently she saw her mom? "Oh, I'm sorry, Kate. Does it make you sad to hear me talk about seeing my mommy since your mom is gone?"

Oh god, this girl's sense of compassion might just break her heart. Mother's Day was a melancholy day for her but Kate would sooner cut out her tongue than admit it to Alexis now, not when the girl was looking so stricken at the thought that she might have hurt Kate's feelings. Kate bent until she was on a level with Alexis, putting an arm around the girl. "That's very sweet but no, Alexis, it doesn't make me sad." She managed a smile for the girl's benefit. "I'm just glad you'll get to see your mom when I know you must miss her."

Alexis's expression brightened. "Okay, good. I don't want you to be sad."

"I'm not sad," Kate promised, "because you and your dad are pretty good at making me happy."

"Daddy is pretty good at that," Alexis agreed generously.

"Thank you, pumpkin." Castle's voice made them both look around to see that Castle had moved closer and was surveying them, his eyes soft.

"Daddy, have you been eavesdropping?" Alexis asked with mock sternness.

"No, I wasn't. I just came to tell you and Kate that dinner is ready. Will you set the table for us please, Alexis?"

"Yes, Daddy," Alexis agreed willingly and flew off after pausing to address Kate with punctilious politeness, "Excuse me, Kate."

Kate smiled as she straightened up, accepting Castle's outstretched hand and stepping into his side.

He kissed her hair. "We make you happy?" he murmured.

She turned her face into his shoulder. Not because she was hiding but because he smelled good, that was all. "Fishing for compliments, Castle?"

"Of course," he returned promptly. "I love compliments."

She laughed. "Of course you do, oh vain one."

"Daddy, Kate, stop canoodling and come have dinner," Alexis called.

Kate and Castle glanced at each other and exploded into laughter.

"All right, Alexis, we're coming," Castle managed to say.

"Canoodling?" Kate repeated, breathless with laughter.

Castle made a wry face. "Don't blame me; I'm pretty sure my mother is to blame."

Kate joined Alexis at the table while Castle went to the kitchen to plate up their dinners.

"What do you want to drink?" Alexis asked her.

"Water is fine but I can get it."

"No!" Alexis contradicted firmly. "You're a guest, Kate, you sit."

Kate obeyed, hiding a smile at being ordered around by a 9-year-old.

Alexis returned to the table carefully bearing a glass of water that she presented to Kate before taking her own seat.

"Where did you hear the word canoodling?" Kate asked as Castle set plates of baked ziti before both Alexis and Kate.

"Grams told me," Alexis returned blithely. "Did I use it right? I like it because it sounds funny. Canoodling," she repeated with some relish.

"You are definitely your father's daughter."

Alexis beamed. "Daddy likes to say I'm a chip off the old block but Grams says that's not true because I'm better behaved than Daddy ever was."

Castle joined them at the table with his own plate of baked ziti and heaved an exaggerated sigh as he sat down. "Now, Alexis, haven't I told you before that you shouldn't listen to anything Grams says?" he asked with mock seriousness.

Unfazed, Alexis only grinned at him. "You have but I know better than to listen."

Kate laughed while Castle pulled a face at Alexis. "Eat your salad, daughter, and stop making fun of me."

"But Daddy, it's fun to make fun of you," Alexis said although she obediently helped herself to some salad.

Kate shot a smirk at Castle. "She has a point."

Castle gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Stop encouraging her."

Kate grinned. "Nope," she returned, deliberately popping the 'p' sound.

"So unfair, the way you two gang up on me," he pretended to grumble.

"Stop pouting and eat your dinner, Castle."

"Yeah, Daddy," Alexis chimed in, "stop pouting and eat."

Castle made a face but started to eat his dinner.

Dinner was, as always, delicious and passed mostly with Alexis talking about the book she had just finished reading that day, helped along by Castle's questions. Kate generally settled for listening and it occurred to her that Castle's questions, interspersed with joking ones, were carefully chosen not only to improve Alexis's reading comprehension but also make her a more thoughtful reader. She wasn't sure how much of it was due to Castle's instincts as a writer himself and no doubt a good reader but whatever the case, it certainly made him a very good dad. Kate let her free hand fall below the table to rest her hand on his knee, for once not trying to tease him, but simply because the warmth bubbling up inside her made her need to touch him in some way.

He glanced at her and she met his eyes, thinking—hoping—that her expression would convey at least some of what she was feeling. His expression softened into the glimmer of a smile before he returned his gaze to Alexis. But under the table, he reached out and grasped her hand in his.

After dinner, Alexis generously allowed Castle to pick the movie and Kate had to laugh as he proceeded to choose the animated movie, _Batman: Mask of the Phantasm_.

"Daddy loves Batman," Alexis explained in an aside.

"What's not to love? Batman is awesome!" Castle chimed in, as he handed Alexis and Kate bowls of ice cream. "A handsome crime-fighting billionaire, it doesn't get any cooler than that."

"Wow, really going deep with your character analysis there," Kate retorted dryly.

He made a face at her as he took his own seat at the other end of the couch. "Don't knock Batman, Beckett, since you remind me of him. You fight crime and chase bad guys too."

"But Kate's even better than Batman," Alexis piped up, "because she catches bad guys in real life!"

In spite of herself, Kate felt her heart fluttering a little at the admiration in Alexis's voice. She wasn't sure she could ever get used to being so looked up to by a little kid. She didn't think she was all that special or amazing but to Alexis, she apparently was. And all she could think was that she would try to live up to Alexis's opinion of her.

Castle provided a distraction from her emotion by emitting a loud, fake gasp of horror, reeling back as he clutched his chest histrionically. "Alexis, are you insinuating that Batman isn't real?"

Alexis tilted her head to one side as she looked at her dad. "What's 'sinwaiting' mean?"

"Insinuate," Castle enunciated slowly. "It means to hint at something, usually something bad."

"I wasn't insinuating," Alexis pronounced the word carefully. "Batman isn't real because he's from a comic book."

Kate laughed at Castle's look of exaggerated dismay. "You're right, Alexis. Batman isn't real."

"Stop being silly, Daddy. You know comic books aren't real."

"Fine," he pretended to grumble. "Take all the fun out of life, why don't you?"

Alexis giggled and pitched over to lean her head against his shoulder. "You can still have fun watching Batman even if he's not real, Daddy," she reasoned. "Just like we still had fun reading the Narnia books even though Narnia isn't real either."

That made Castle laugh and sling his arm around Alexis, bending to press a kiss to her hair. "Thanks, pumpkin. That makes me feel a lot better."

Alexis beamed at him and nestled against him as the movie started. Kate vaguely remembered having watched the movie before but had no other memories of it and found she enjoyed it, helped by the fact that it was, at the very least, fun to watch how much Castle enjoyed the movie. Because he clearly did, cheering on Batman and even speaking some lines from the movie along with the characters until Alexis swatted at his arm and told him to be quiet.

By the time the movie ended, Alexis was starting to fade, sagging against Castle and yawning.

He looked down at the girl, squeezing her arm. "Do you want me to carry you upstairs?" he offered, his voice little more than a whisper.

Alexis shook her head, managing to straighten up. "No, Daddy, I'm not asleep so I can walk upstairs alone. I'm not a baby anymore."

He made a rueful face, although he turned his face so Alexis wouldn't really notice, but admitted, "I know you're not, Alexis. Go on, then, upstairs and don't forget to brush your teeth."

"I won't forget, Daddy." Alexis turned to Kate. "G'night, Kate. See you in the morning."

Oh lord. Kate's heart started rabbiting around in her chest at the girl's easy assumption that Kate would be around tomorrow morning too. Not a surprising assumption, admittedly, since Kate had been around the last two mornings but she hadn't exactly meant to encourage Alexis into believing she would always be around.

"Oh, uh, well, I have to go to work tomorrow, Alexis," she explained, "so I think I'll need to leave early."

"Oh, okay. Will you come over for dinner after work though?"

"I will if I can but work might not allow me to," she hedged, truthfully.

It wasn't just Kate that was getting too used to staying over at the loft.

And why oh why was she freaking out so much about this? It wasn't a bad thing that Alexis was so welcoming of Kate's presence in her home and in her life. A normal person wouldn't be freaking out. But she wasn't normal, was she, was still afraid to believe in this relationship lasting, no matter how well things were going, no matter how much she wanted things to last—and she did, she really did. But she'd been conditioned not to hope or believe in good things lasting, conditioned to expect another shoe to drop.

"Okay, you'll come over if you can," Alexis accepted easily, so trusting already (still?) that Kate would stick around. "Good night, Kate."

"Good night, Alexis. Sleep well."

Alexis scrambled up on the couch to peck Castle's cheek and then slid off the couch. "Night, Daddy."

"I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in, pumpkin."

"Okay, Daddy," Alexis agreed easily and made her way upstairs.

Castle watched her go with that soft light in his eyes that was almost always present when he looked at his daughter before he started to gather up their now-empty bowls of ice cream.

Kate picked up her own bowl, following him into the kitchen and helping him load the dishwasher, batting away the hands that tried to keep her from helping. "Stop it, I can help, Castle."

He pretended to sigh. "I'm trying to be a good host but fine, have it your way."

"I'm already convinced that you're a good host."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Is that the only thing you like about me?"

"Who said I like that about you?" she parried, sternly biting back her smile.

He huffed. "You're so mean, Beckett."

She laughed softly and stepped into him to slide her arms around his waist. "Wait and see how nice I can be to you," she husked against his throat.

He choked on a laugh as he returned the embrace. "I have to wait?" he asked with mock plaintiveness.

Her lips curved as her nose nudged aside the collar of his shirt to allow her to nuzzle a soft kiss to his neck as he tilted his head back to allow her greater access. She hadn't worn her heels today and she was finding that an unlooked-for benefit of that was the way it reinforced the height difference between them. She might need to skip wearing her heels more often or at least, discard them when she was in the loft. She'd never realized before how much she liked the fact that Castle was taller than her but she really did.

He made a soft sound in the back of his throat and she lifted her head to allow him to kiss her—or allow her to kiss him, really—although he kept the kiss soft and brief, before releasing her.

"Alexis," he explained succinctly and unnecessarily.

She nodded and he retreated upstairs while she busied herself wiping down the dining table and generally neatening up the kitchen.

He returned in short order, flashing her a quick smile. "She was already in bed and mostly asleep by the time I got up there."

She made a noncommittal sound in response and they fell into easy silence with her continuing to straighten out the kitchen while he started washing the pans from dinner.

"You know, I was thinking," he began, "you should start leaving some of your clothes and things here. It would make things easier for you when you stay over."

Um, what? She froze and glanced sharply at him but he was focused on scrubbing the pan and apparently saw nothing big about his statement at all.

"There's plenty of room and it would mean you wouldn't need to leave so early in order to get ready for work or anything," he went on matter-of-factly.

Right, he was being practical, she tried to calm her rabbiting heart. He wasn't asking her to move in, just being thoughtful.

It did make sense too, considering how often she was staying over. She had relented and borrowed some clothes from him, an old shirt that he said his mother had shrunk in the wash, and an equally old pair of sweats that she had needed to roll up quite a few times and had still swamped her, when she had stayed for breakfast on Saturday before she had returned to her own apartment—briefly—just to change before heading into the precinct. She'd felt somewhat ridiculous and self-conscious in Castle's clothes and thanked a merciful fate that Alexis had been too distracted with a book to pay much attention to the fact that Kate was wearing her dad's clothes.

She could be practical, right? It didn't have to mean anything more than that.

A tiny voice in her mind spoke up to note that it would mean another tie to break when—no, _if_ —the relationship ended but she ignored it, tamped down the totally irrational flare of nerves. God, why was she so messed up about this? Why couldn't she just relax and enjoy this relationship—all the warmth and happiness she found in it—while it lasted?

"Yeah, you're right," she managed to say, sounding as casual as she could, "that does make sense. Thanks."

He shot her a quick smile. "Not that I didn't love seeing you in my clothes on Saturday."

She huffed something that might have been a laugh, feeling a little knot of tension unwind. "Men. What is it with you and seeing a woman wearing your clothes?"

He shrugged as he rinsed the pan he'd been washing before setting it out to dry. "A lingering remnant of caveman instincts, I think, like explorers claiming newly discovered territory. 'Here's my woman.'"

"Your woman?" she repeated, an edge entering her voice. What kind of chauvinistic…

He belatedly realized what that sounded like and made a face. "No, that doesn't sound good. My girl?" he corrected, giving her one of his adorably sheepish smiles.

That really should not work on her. She was a detective, for heaven's sake! Still annoyed, still annoyed—nope, damn it, it was slipping away. She made a mental note never to tell him how effective those sheepish smiles were and sternly controlled her expression into impassivity.

"I'll happily be yours," he offered now.

"My boy?" she returned wryly, softening enough to smirk at him.

He wrinkled his nose—yeah, that didn't sound right either—but agreed. "If you want."

She pretended to think about it for just long enough to make him start to look a little apprehensive and then took pity on him. "I think I'll settle for calling you my Castle. It's what Lanie calls you, anyway."

He grinned. "Oh, does she? How is Lanie anyway?"

"Busy as usual." Kate left out the part where Lanie was getting way too much enjoyment out of teasing Kate over her relationship with Castle every time they met.

"Your Castle, I like it," he declared, drying his hands now that he was done with the pans. "Does that mean you're my Beckett?"

"I'll consider it," she drawled but the words were probably (definitely) belied by the willingness with which she went into his arms as he stepped towards her.

She lifted her face for his kiss and thought fuzzily that being his Beckett sounded rather nice.

 _~To be continued…~_

 _Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers._


	31. Chapter 31

Author's Note: For anyone who might have felt the last couple chapters were too happy and fluffy, this one is a heavier, more emotional chapter.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 31_

A double homicide kept Kate and Hassan busy late into the night both Monday and Tuesday nights until Kate picked up on a discrepancy in one of the witness's statements that allowed them to crack the case the next day.

Montgomery nodded as Hassan gave him the quick summary of the case. "Good work, both of you," Montgomery said crisply. "Now go home. Landis is in Holding and not going anywhere; you can take care of the paperwork tomorrow." His expression and his tone shifted to the more familiar as he addressed Hassan, "H, go have dinner with Sonia and say hello to her for me," referring to Hassan's wife. "You too, Beckett, go home."

Hassan grinned and saluted, half-playfully, while Kate responded, "Yes, sir," and didn't hesitate to depart the precinct at speed. She liked her work but not even she was sorry to be told to leave after two nights in a row where she hadn't left the precinct until well after 10.

And being dismissed just after 4 pm meant that she would have time to make a detour to her apartment to pick up some things before heading to Castle's loft. Thanks to the latest case, she hadn't had a chance to take Castle up on either his invitations to come over or to bring some of her stuff over.

Back at her apartment, she packed up a few work outfits, some casual clothes, some sleepwear (although she couldn't help but think, with a faint smirk tugging on her lips, that the sleepwear wasn't likely to see much use), and a small bag of toiletries and makeup into a small duffel bag before heading out. (And she might have just happened to slip a few of her sexier, silkier pieces of underwear and lingerie into the bag.)

Castle had not specifically sent her a text inviting her to come over today but she thought she'd be forgiven the intrusion since he had invited her the last two days and she hadn't been able to accept his invitations.

It didn't occur to her to wonder if she would be welcome until the door of the loft swung open to reveal a Castle, who looked decidedly grim, his usually neat hair disheveled as if he'd spent the last hours running his hand through it. Oh, um, maybe coming here uninvited had not been the best idea...

"Hi," she said lamely. "I thought I'd come see what's for dinner." She ended on something approaching a question.

Castle blinked and a little spark rekindled in his eyes. "Kate," he breathed in the tone of someone saying, thank god, and then he simply tugged her against him, wrapping his arms around her.

Crap, what had happened? As affectionate as Castle was, he didn't normally greet her as if he was drowning and she was a lifesaver. "Castle, what is it? What happened?" She paused, a spike of terror spearing through her. "Is Alexis okay?" Oh god, had something happened to Alexis? But if it was serious, what was he doing at home and why hadn't he told her?

He released her with a sigh, belatedly seeming to notice the bag she'd brought with her, his expression momentarily lightening a little, as he closed the door of the loft. "Alexis is in her room," he answered obliquely.

She relaxed marginally. Okay, so it appeared Alexis wasn't physically injured or something too serious, right? On an impulse of tenderness she couldn't control or deny, she lifted a hand to brush back the lock of hair flopping over his forehead and then ruffled the soft hair just above his ears, a caress that she knew tended to relax him. It did the job this time too, as his expression eased a little, his head tilting instinctively into the caress. He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm and then retained his grip on her hand as he led her to the couch.

"What is it, Castle? You're starting to scare me."

Castle sighed, lowering his head to study their joined hands. "Meredith isn't coming," he blurted out flatly.

Oh. Oh god, Alexis. She remembered Alexis's blithe announcement that she would be spending the entire weekend with her mom. Kate winced. "How's Alexis taking it?"

It was Castle's turn to wince. "She says she's okay but I think, no, I _know_ she's only saying that to placate me, because she doesn't want me to worry. She does that."

Yes, Kate knew that was something Alexis would do. She suddenly remembered Alexis's confession of why she didn't like to watch Castle on TV and the way Alexis had wanted Kate's assurance that she wouldn't tell Castle because he would worry.

"Meredith called this afternoon, asked to speak to Alexis," Castle went on, his voice sounding controlled, not like himself. "Apparently, she got a call for an audition for some big upcoming movie but the audition is on Monday, in LA, of course, so she can't possibly fly across the country and spend the weekend in New York. She can't show up to her audition jetlagged and tired after all, and she needs to spend the weekend _preparing_." The savage sarcasm of the last word could have stripped the paint off the walls.

"Oh," was all Kate could say. What could she really say? That she was starting to hate this woman she'd never met was true but not helpful. His grip on her hand had tightened to the point of pain but she wasn't about to mention it. Anyway, she trusted that Castle wouldn't actually hurt her, no matter how upset he might be.

He made a face. "At least this time, she broke the news to Alexis herself, rather than leaving me to be the messenger." He stopped and sighed. "But I just… you should have seen Alexis's face. She just got so… quiet. She didn't cry, at least not where I could see her, didn't blame Meredith and said she understood and it was okay and wished Meredith good luck on the audition." He paused. "Meredith probably believed Alexis too, knowing her, but I know my daughter and it's just… not okay."

He directed a scowl at a spot on the wall. "I'm so _angry_ at her. I mean, I know I got full custody and Meredith has never been the poster child for a doting mother but I still thought she'd make more of an effort. And I know she does love Alexis in her own way so I just don't understand how she can do this to Alexis, keep hurting her feelings over and over." His expression shifted from anger back to sorrow. "And there's nothing I can do!"

No, in a lot of ways, there wasn't much for Castle to do. If it was a physical hurt, he could take Alexis to a doctor or bandage it up and distract her with ice cream or something. But this, he could only watch as his daughter's heart was broken (again) and try to be there for her but he couldn't take the hurt away.

And what could she do, for that matter? Kate was no more a fan of enforced helplessness and inaction than Castle was.

She hadn't seen Castle look so distressed since, well, since the day they'd first met in the bakery. Except now, she _cared_ so much more. Seeing him look like this made her entire chest feel tight with an almost physical pain. It was just… wrong… to see Castle, who was usually so cheerful, who always managed to brighten up her own life, so downcast. She hated it. And she wanted—needed—to make it better, make him smile.

"Can I help?" she asked, stupidly.

"Seeing you should cheer Alexis up a little." The ghost of something that might have been a smile if it had been allowed to grow up just touched his lips but never reached his eyes.

So like Castle, to be focused so completely on Alexis. And of course she would go see Alexis and try to do what she could to cheer Alexis up but she wanted to cheer him up too.

"You know, I have connections in the criminal world. Wanna hire someone to rough Meredith up a little?"

He just blinked and for a split second, she knew a moment of terror that she'd totally misjudged. What if he wasn't in the mood to be receptive to levity that might seem like it was making light of his daughter's hurt?

And then he laughed.

He laughed, his eyes for the first time that evening lightening to their usual sapphire, and she remembered how to breathe.

"Oh Kate, only you," he murmured and for that moment, he looked… almost happy as he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. "That helps. You help."

She managed a faint smile before sobering, lifting her free hand to sift through his hair. "I'm glad."

His eyes slipped closed as he tilted his head a little into her touch, the lines on his face easing into the closest thing to relaxed she'd seen since arriving. Her heart clenched with a surge of emotion, protectiveness suddenly giving her the absurd, stupid wish to wrap him up in cotton wool so nothing could ever hurt him, his kind heart, again. Maybe he was—had been—lonely but at least today, in this moment, she had been able to help him.

"I'll go up and talk to Alexis," she offered quietly.

"Would you?" He made a small face. "Maybe she'll talk to you rather than me."

"I'll try," was all she could say, even as she wondered how much or what she could really do to comfort Alexis. She didn't know Alexis as well as Castle did and, well, as much as she cared about Alexis, what she knew about kids in general could fit into a teaspoon and leave room to spare. She'd never met Meredith and she certainly couldn't bad-mouth Meredith to the woman's own daughter, no matter the temptation.

All she had was her own wish to help. And what empathy she felt from having lost her own mother, she thought, her heart twisting. She almost never spoke about her mom or what the loss of her mom had done to her but it occurred to her that for Alexis, if it would help, she would—willingly, if not easily.

She stood and on an impulse, bent to brush a kiss to his hair before she went upstairs, feeling Castle's gaze on her as she left.

Alexis's door was closed and she hesitated in the hallway for a full five seconds at least, trying to gather her thoughts a little and her composure. And it occurred to her that she really should not be chickening out like this over talking to a 9-year-old girl.

She knocked.

"I'm fine, Daddy, just reading a book," Alexis's voice came, sounding a little subdued but in a way that told Kate Alexis was trying valiantly to sound normal.

"It's Kate, Alexis. Can I come in?"

There was a brief pause and then the door opened. Alexis had clearly pasted on her best attempt at a smile, one that might have fooled many people, but Kate detected the evidence of tears in Alexis's slightly reddened eyes and swollen eyelids. "Oh, Kate, hi. I didn't know you were here."

"I just got here," Kate said lamely.

Alexis retreated to curl up Indian-style on her bed, reaching out to tuck Monkey Bunkey against her side in what Kate guessed was an automatic bid for comfort, which was more revelatory than Alexis knew.

Kate took the seat at Alexis's desk, turning it to face the girl, who mustered up another pale smile. "Did you have a busy couple days at work, Kate? Daddy said that was why you couldn't come over yesterday and Monday."

Kate's heart hurt at this evidence of Alexis putting on a brave face. It was just so utterly wrong for any child to have to put on a brave face.

It was also familiar because Kate herself was a past master at putting on a brave face and hiding her own hurt from others. And the thought gave her a germ of an idea of how to approach this. (God, was she really about to do this, mention the hard part of her job to this little kid?) She dithered for a moment but no better ideas came to mind.

"I did have a busy couple days. We had a hard case to solve and it was a little tough for me." It took no acting for Kate to appear sober and a little sad. The emotional toll her cases took on her was, ironically, the aspect of her job she'd always tried to hide from Alexis for obvious reasons and now she was deliberately bringing it up. She really hoped this worked because if it didn't, she might just be adding more emotional trauma to Alexis's already sad day—and she'd hate herself, to say nothing of how Castle would feel.

The girl's eyes went wide with sympathy and some curiosity. "Oh really, Kate? I'm sorry. What happened?"

The details of her cases were not something Alexis ever needed to know. "A woman was killed and I was the one who had to tell her sister that she was dead." The sisters had been close too because their parents had died when they were young so the victim, the older sister, had needed to take care of the younger sister. And even though the younger sister was now grown up and married, the sororal bond had remained. Talking to the families of victims, breaking the news, was always the worst part of her job and this had been one of the harder ones (not that there really were any easy ones).

"Oh no, that's so sad," Alexis breathed, her eyes shining with compassion but Kate was weirdly encouraged because the girl was also distracted.

"Yeah, it is. It was hard to watch the woman cry." The woman had broken down sobbing when Kate had told her the news and Kate had needed to wait, patting the woman's hand a little awkwardly, before even attempting to question the woman about what she knew of her sister's life. Kate managed a little upward tilt of her lips, the faint beginnings of a smile. "That's why I wanted to come here today, because seeing you always cheers me up."

Alexis's expression brightened just a little. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment and then offered, "Do you want a hug?"

Kate smiled for real. "I would love a hug," she said and suited action to the words by sitting beside Alexis on the bed, putting her arms around the girl.

Alexis wrapped her thin arms around Kate and clung, burying her face in Kate's shoulder. And if the hug was as much (or more) about providing comfort to Alexis than to her, Kate wasn't about to mention it.

Alexis made no move to break the embrace and neither did Kate, waiting. She suspected that engaging Alexis's ready compassion and wish to comfort would be an easier opening for Alexis's hurt feelings, allowing for a back door around Alexis's wish to seem brave.

"Do hugs help you when you miss your mom?" Alexis's small voice sounded somewhat muffled against Kate's shirt.

"Yes. My dad hugs me," she said, truthfully, although she could not honestly say her dad's hugs had been very comforting in years past. "And now I get hugs from you and from your dad and that makes me feel better too." Their hugs and, well, everything else they brought into her life too. Castle and Alexis both were good at that, their warmth and kindness providing a reminder of the good in humanity after she spent her days seeing the evil in humanity.

Alexis was silent for a minute and then admitted, quietly, "I was sad today too."

Kate sternly kept herself from reacting. "Do you want to tell me why?" she asked as gently as she could.

There was another pause and then, just when Kate was starting to think Alexis might not answer after all, a little voice emerged. "My mommy called to say she can't come visit this weekend."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Alexis."

Alexis lifted her face. "It's because she has a big audition to prepare for and her work is very important," she explained, her tone making it sound as if she was parroting what Meredith had told her.

Kate stayed silent. And sent up a silent thanks to her mom, even as her heart twisted, because Johanna Beckett had never let the young Katie think that Johanna's job was more important than her daughter. Her mom had taken time off work whenever Kate had been sick, had always been willing to set her work aside whenever the young Katie had needed to talk.

Alexis's bravado finally showed signs of cracking as she sniffed a little and leaned her head against Kate's arm, a position that allowed her face to stay mostly hidden from Kate's view. "I know I shouldn't be upset," she managed. "I'm not a baby anymore and I understand that work is important." She paused, her breath hitching. "I just… wish I was more important than work sometimes," she admitted, so quietly Kate almost had to strain to hear it. "Is that selfish of me, Kate?"

Kate's heart broke. She tightened her arms around the girl until Alexis was nearly sitting in her lap. "No, sweetpea, that's not selfish," she promised, the endearment slipping from her lips without thought. She had vague memories of her grandparents calling her sweetpea when she'd been young and now it had just slipped out. She wasn't normally someone to use endearments but then again, she hadn't exactly had anyone in her life for whom she would use an endearment. But she was starting to understand Castle's frequent use of them with Alexis because it just seemed… oddly wrong somehow not to use an endearment with this little girl she cared so much about in a situation like this.

"You haven't done anything wrong. It's okay to feel sad when parents break their promises." Kate had experienced the sadness of a parent's broken promises too, only when she'd been an adult. When she had been somewhat better able to cope. In that way too, it occurred to her that she had been luckier than Alexis was, odd as the thought was. She mentally resolved to try harder, do better, with her dad.

"I shouldn't have believed Mommy but I did."

"That's not true, Alexis, you were right to believe your mom because she should keep her promises. Your dad keeps his promises to you, doesn't he?"

"Yes, Daddy always keeps his promises."

"It wasn't wrong to believe your mom. If someone breaks their promises, it's their fault for breaking them." She hesitated but had to add, carefully, "Your mom is wrong to break her promises but I'm sure your mom does love you. Just grown-ups sometimes forget how to show that."

Alexis sniffed but after a while, she straightened up. "Thank you, Kate. I feel better now."

Kate forced a small smile for the girl's benefit, lifting a hand to brush a strand of Alexis's hair away from her face. "That's good. Talking to you makes me feel better too," she added.

The girl dimpled into her first real smile, albeit a somewhat weak one. "I'm glad."

"I have an idea," Kate began.

"An idea about what?"

"Well, I don't have to work on Sunday," she said, not quite truthfully, since she was scheduled to be on call this weekend so she needed to be prepared to have to go to work if Dispatch called but she could talk to Captain Montgomery to switch around her schedule. "So I was thinking, since my mom isn't here and now your mom can't come out to visit, maybe you and I could spend Mother's Day together instead. How does that sound, Alexis?"

Alexis's eyes and her expression brightened like a sunrise. "The whole day, Kate, and can we do anything we like?"

"The whole day and we can do anything you want," Kate promised, expansively. She wouldn't normally make such a promise but she knew enough about Alexis—the girl who monitored her own bedtime and who did her homework and ate her vegetables without prompting—to trust that Alexis wouldn't suggest they do anything too crazy.

"I'd love that."

Kate had left Alexis's door ajar and now, her ear picked up a soft sound from the hallway, a faint creak, and it didn't take much of a detective to know what—who—it was. She caught Alexis's eye and motioned with her head towards the door, winking at the girl, before she spoke up, "Stop skulking, Castle, and show yourself."

There was a muffled yelp of surprise that had Alexis's smile widening and then Castle himself appeared in the doorway, pushing the door open, his expression brightening as his gaze landed on the two of them. "I just came up to tell you that dinner is ready."

"What does skulking mean?" Alexis asked, returning her attention to Kate.

"Skulk means to sneak around," Kate explained.

"Skulk!" Alexis repeated, sounding more like her usual self than she had all evening. "I like it. It sort of sounds like what it means."

Castle laughed gently, ruffling Alexis's hair until she batted his hand away. "That's my girl. Now, I thought I heard something about you two plotting to have fun without me. Is that true?" he asked, giving them what might have been the world's most reproachful expression.

Alexis actually giggled at Castle's expression—no doubt his intent—and turned to Kate. "Can Daddy come with us on Sunday, Kate?"

Kate put on an exaggeratedly thoughtful face, tilting her head and stroking her chin for good measure. (She'd been spending too much time with Castle to have his melodramatic tendencies rubbing off on her. But if it would amuse Alexis and keep her cheerful, Kate would do much more than just making silly faces.) "Mm, I don't know. What do you think, Alexis? Do you want him to come or do you want to have a girls' day out, no boys allowed?"

Alexis also pretended to think about it. "I think we can let him come with us if he behaves."

Kate exchanged a conspiratorial smile with Alexis. "Good idea, Alexis."

Castle faked shock and dismay and Alexis giggled again. "So you'd better behave, Daddy!"

"I always behave!" Castle protested.

"No, you don't, Daddy," Alexis returned. "You used a bad word yesterday when you hit your knee against the table."

Kate laughed as Castle turned a look of betrayal on Alexis. "She's got you there, Castle."

"I'm changing my mind about offering you dinner," he grumbled.

"Starving us is not behaving either," Alexis pointed out.

He threw up his hands in histrionic despair. "I just can't win, can I?"

"Nope," Alexis smiled.

Kate nudged Alexis. "Come on, Alexis, let's go down and get dinner since your dad seems more interested in being silly."

Alexis hopped off her bed but stopped to tug on Castle's hands while he made a show of being pulled upright.

They trooped downstairs with Alexis leading the way, volunteering to set the table.

Castle let her go on ahead, reaching out to take Kate's hand, drawing her into him so he could brush a kiss to her temple. "Thank you," he murmured in her ear.

"No need to thank me. I didn't do much and it's not like I like to see Alexis sad."

If she thought her demurral would dim his gratitude, she would have been wrong because his expression only softened more, his eyes flooding with so much emotion, too much emotion, that she didn't dare identify, wasn't ready to see. And didn't really believe she deserved because she hadn't done anything particularly admirable and really, anything she did was small recompense considering how much happiness and sheer fun Castle and Alexis brought to Kate's life. Besides, what kind of terrible person could see a little kid who was hurt and not want to help?

"Still," he countered quietly. "You made her smile again and that's enough, that's everything."

She felt herself flush at his tone and his look and hurriedly added, "We'd better join Alexis before she calls us out for canoodling again."

That made him laugh, distracting him. "Good point."

They joined Alexis at the table—or more accurately, Kate joined Alexis in setting out glasses of water for the three of them while Castle split off into the kitchen to plate their dinners.

He'd made comfort food in the form of mac and cheese, along with salad, and by now, Kate was unsurprised to find that it was probably the best mac and cheese she had ever tasted (and she told him so too, relenting in her usual policy not to feed his ego because of the day he'd had).

Dinner passed much as usual except that both she and Castle were even more focused on Alexis than usual. Kate was relatively sure that Castle's eyes didn't actually stray from Alexis's face more than once during the entire dinner, eating absently (apart from the quick smile he shot her after she complimented the mac and cheese).

Thankfully, Alexis appeared to be largely restored to her usual sunny self, talking about what they'd done in school that day and providing her usual report on how Barty, the class turtle, was doing.

The most noticeable evidence of lingering hurt came when she asked Castle for permission to go over to her friend Taylor's house on Saturday because Taylor's mom had said she was planning to bake a cake and had agreed to let Taylor watch and help. The reminder that her friend had a mom who was present and involved in her life while she did not made Alexis's eyes dim, a shadow crossing her face.

Castle quickly assented and then leaped into the breach to cheer Alexis up by starting on a rambling and deliberately silly disquisition on which kind of cake was the best until Alexis was giggling.

Because of course he would. It was what Castle did, try to make the people in his life smile. This was the man she knew and— _liked_. Liked a lot, even. Kate slammed the brakes on the dangerous—terrifying—direction her thoughts had turned towards so hard that she should have left skid marks on her brain. And retreated fast enough to leave a cloud of dust in her wake.

Kate forced herself to refocus on Castle's words with as much attention as if he were speaking the most eloquent words since the Gettysburg Address rather than musing aloud on the merits of red velvet cake versus cheesecake and proposing that they all embark on a contest in the next week or so to try all the different varieties of cake and see which one was better.

"I think at the end of this contest, we'd need to roll you down the sidewalk," she inserted dryly as Alexis giggled.

He gave her a look of exaggerated horror. "Are you calling me fat?"

She pretended to study him before drawling, "You could stand to lose a few pounds."

Alexis helped out by reaching out to poke him in the side, making Castle yelp.

"See, you almost sound like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, Daddy!" Alexis piped up, exchanging a grin with Kate.

Kate felt her entire chest fill with a ridiculous warmth at this evidence that Alexis's sense of mischief was back.

Castle pretended to scowl at his daughter. "That was not very nice."

"Kate thought it was funny," Alexis returned.

"Kate thinking it was funny does not make it nice," he grumbled, making a show of huffing as he stood up to gather up their dishes from dinner.

Alexis laughed as she and Kate stood up to take their own dishes into the kitchen.

"If you two are going to be mean to me, I don't think you deserve dessert," Castle mock-threatened.

"But Daddy, we always have dessert! It's the rule!"

Castle, of course, made a show of reluctance before giving in. "Fine, but only because I want dessert too."

And then proceeded to set up the makings of a full ice cream sundae bar on the kitchen island with three different flavors of ice cream, both rainbow and chocolate sprinkles, chocolate syrup, caramel syrup, whipped cream, peanuts, Oreos, M&M's, bananas, and strawberries.

Castle caught Kate's look and shrugged a little. "What, ice cream is a serious business in this household."

"So I see," Kate laughed.

They made themselves ice cream sundaes and settled in to watch the movie of Alexis's choosing, _Mary Poppins._

After Alexis had finished up her ice cream, she nestled against Castle as he put his arm around her.

Unsurprisingly, both Alexis and Castle sang along to most of the songs, while Kate mostly listened, although she did consent to hum along at various points. And as Kate watched Castle sing along to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," a wide grin on his face the entire time, the errant thought slithered back into her mind. She was absolutely not thinking about that word she'd almost thought earlier— _not yet_.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I was absolutely overwhelmed by all the reviews to the last chapter. Thank you all so much!


	32. Chapter 32

Author's Note: How Kate and Alexis (and Castle) spend Mother's Day, which I know a lot of you are looking forward to. I hope this satisfies!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 32_

Kate bent down to leave the bouquet of flowers she had brought for her mom, pausing as she straightened up to brush a few leaves and other debris from the top of the tombstone.

She had needed to work on Mother's Day the last few years so she hadn't made a habit of coming here on Mother's Day. She had worked late yesterday, having switched with Detective Navarro for the evening shift in order to be able to take the day off today, and so she had crawled into her bed in her apartment at somewhere around 1 am.

She didn't have a lot of time before she was supposed to meet Castle, Alexis, and Martha for brunch at 10 but this visit to the cemetery was still something she'd felt she needed to do.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom," she began quietly. She didn't often speak aloud but sometimes it was comforting, made it easier to imagine she was really having a conversation with her mom. And this time, she had news to share. "I wanted to tell you, I'm dating Rick Castle." (Why did that still sound ridiculous to say?)

"He's—he's different—more—than what you expected him to be." She remembered her mom asking, after that time her dad had gone to one of Castle's book signings, whether Castle was as witty in person as he seemed through his writing and adding that she already knew he must be smart. And of course, Castle was smart and witty, as her mom had expected, but he was so much more than that. "He acts so silly a lot of times but he's also really… sweet and he's such an amazing dad."

A small smile curved her lips. "His daughter's name is Alexis. She's 9 and adorable. I—I wish you could meet them, Mom." She really, really did. She knew her mom would have liked Castle, would have loved Alexis.

And god, she missed her mom. She wanted to talk to her mom about Alexis, about how she seemed to have been absorbed more and more into the Castle family, about this bigger role she appeared to be taking in Alexis's life. Spending Mother's Day with Alexis was a much more active and bigger step to really becoming a mother figure (a mother substitute?) for Alexis. It had been an easy promise to make at the time and she still didn't regret it in the slightest because she was finding that she would do a lot to make Alexis happy but it was still a big step.

A step towards becoming _family_. The word had her heart stuttering in her chest because it was everything she had lost six years ago and had never yet regained. Not just the loss of her mother but the way her mom's death had fractured her family so completely and even now, her relationship with her dad was tenuous, mending perhaps but not healed.

She wasn't sure she really remembered how to _be_ part of a family anymore but somehow, with the Castles, it was… if not completely easy, it was easier than she would have expected.

Just as it was easy to care more and more about both Castle and Alexis with every day that passed.

The whole relationship, everything about being with Castle, was good and she liked it, liked all of it, but it was also a little (a lot?) terrifying. Terrifying because she still wondered sometimes if she was doing the right thing, becoming so involved in Alexis's life, wondering if she was really ready for all that entailed. She, who wasn't a baby person and had never even thought about becoming a parent before, becoming such a big part of a child's life.

And more than that even, it was terrifying to care about these people so much because already, she couldn't imagine how she would endure it if her relationship with Castle ended or worse, if anything happened to either Castle or Alexis. She shied away from that thought.

"It scares me, Mom, how much they're starting to mean to me," she whispered.

But then Kate could hear in her mind the well-remembered voice of her mom, knew what her mom would say. _Oh Katie-girl, don't you remember what I've told you about not letting fear hold you back? You're braver than that, my Katie._

Kate managed a watery smile. Sometimes, it was easier to feel closer to her mom here, easier in the quiet and still of the cemetery to hear her mom's voice.

"I need to go, Mom. I'm spending Mother's Day with Alexis. I miss you."

She lingered for another minute before she turned away, heading to brunch, and lucked out because she was able to find a parking spot a block away from the restaurant.

She was waylaid about a half a block away by the sound of her name. "Kate!"

Alexis came pelting up to her, looking rather like Pippi Longstocking with her red hair in two pigtails flying behind her as she threw herself at Kate, followed at a somewhat lazy lope by Castle.

"Hi, Kate!" Alexis beamed up at her, looking so happy Kate's chest felt weirdly tight with relief. She hadn't even realized she'd been inwardly wondering what Alexis's mood would be like, if she would be a little sad about having to make do with Kate as a second-best substitute for her mom. But judging from Alexis's expression now, it hadn't occurred to the girl to think like that.

"Good morning, Beckett." Castle had reached them.

She exchanged a smile with him as she kept an arm around Alexis as they turned to walk towards the restaurant together. "Hi, Alexis, Castle. I like the pigtails, Alexis."

The girl grinned and shook her head from side to side to make the pigtails flare out. "Thanks, Kate. Daddy did them for me. Oh, Kate, I told Daddy he could join us for tea later. Is that okay? He was pouting so much I had to let him," Alexis explained in one of her patient tones that made her sound older than her years.

Kate glanced at Castle to see him pull what had to be one of the most woebegone and beseeching expressions ever to grace a human face.

"See, like that!" Alexis piped up.

Kate laughed, couldn't help it. Castle's look could have melted the proverbial heart of stone, which Alexis most certainly did not have. So if Castle had directed that look at Alexis, Kate wasn't surprised the girl had relented. (She would probably have relented before too long herself. Drat the man.) "If you said he can join us, then he can. You're in charge today, Captain Castle." She threw her best parade ground salute for the girl's benefit, making Alexis giggle.

"Very good, Officer—I mean, Detective!" Alexis said in a mock deep voice, making Castle laugh.

Kate teasingly tugged on one pigtail as she exchanged grins over Alexis's head with Castle. "Yes, Captain!"

Alexis giggled at that and then pointed. "Oh, look, there's Grams!"

It was Martha, just opening the door to the restaurant, as conspicuous as she usually was with her red hair and vibrant outfit, today a dress in bright turquoise with splashes of green, yellow, and white. Not too painful of a combination on the eyes. She paused, holding the door open, at the sound of Alexis's voice, the high childish tones easily carrying over the general noise of Manhattan bustle.

There was a little flurry of hugs and kisses of greeting when they reached Martha, Kate not excepted as Martha didn't hesitate to draw Kate into a hug and kiss her on the cheek in the exact same manner as she had her own son. It made Kate's heart squeeze a little because, however flamboyant Martha might be, she was still a mom in the best sense of the word. And Kate had not been hugged in such a way by a mom in a long time.

Castle took advantage of the general bustle to envelop Kate in a hug too, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, as he grinned at her. "Since I didn't get to greet you properly earlier," he explained.

She pretended to shake her head at him but knew the pretense of disapproval was contradicted by the way she kissed his chin quickly. "Hello to you too, Castle."

He slid his arm around her waist, as he held the door open for everyone. "Shall we go in?"

"We shall, thank you, Richard," Martha informed him as she sailed inside, Alexis at her side, already regaling Martha with the plans for the day. Yes, the girl was excited.

Once they were seated at the table and the server had left after filling their water glasses, Castle pulled a flat, square box out of his jacket pocket and presented it to Martha with mock ceremony. "For you, Mother. Happy Mother's Day."

"Why, darling, you shouldn't have!" Martha exclaimed dramatically.

"So she says but you haven't seen the looks she'd have given me if I hadn't given her something," Castle leaned over to whisper in Kate's ear.

Kate poked Castle in the side, suppressing her laughter. "Ssh, Castle, be nice."

"Yeah, Daddy, be nice," Alexis chimed in. "It's Mother's Day so you have to be extra nice to Grams today."

"Thank you, darling," Martha addressed Alexis before directing a more narrow-eyed look at her son. "Really, Richard, I raised you to be more polite."

"Just open your gift, Mother."

Martha did so, to reveal a dramatic gold bangle bracelet set with what Kate guessed were tourmaline and onyx stones. "Oh, this is lovely, thank you, Richard."

Castle smiled, his expression softening for a moment in a way that told Kate more than she already would have guessed, of how deeply Castle loved his mother, in spite of his teasing. "You're welcome, Mother."

She knew, of course, that Martha had raised Castle mostly alone and guessed as to the bond that must still exist between the two of them as a result of it, but she hadn't quite seen it before, hidden as it usually was behind the affectionate barbs that flew between them. He really was such a good man, a loving son, a devoted father—and a sweet boyfriend. And she couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time, what on earth was wrong with Meredith. Because from all she had seen of Castle, she couldn't imagine what woman in her right mind would divorce Richard Castle.

The server returned to take their brunch orders and then brunch itself turned out to be as lively a meal as Kate would have expected from the personalities of Martha, Castle, and Alexis. She had rather expected to spend most of the meal silent, drowned out by the other three, but she found herself participating more than she had expected, drawn out by Alexis, who clearly liked to rely on Kate for an ally in teasing Castle, a role which Kate was happy to fill (much to Castle's voluble and exaggerated huffing). But it was all just… fun, a loud, somewhat chaotic, loving _family_ meal.

And after Castle paid the bill and they all spilled outside, Alexis slipped her hand into Kate's, tugging a little. "Come on, Kate, time to go!"

They didn't have a set appointment time but the girl was eager and Kate wasn't about to gainsay her, not today.

Alexis waved her other hand at Martha and Castle. "Kate and I have plans. You can join us later, Daddy. Bye, Grams!"

Martha bent and dropped a kiss on her granddaughter's bright hair. "Have fun with Katherine, darling."

"Bye, Martha, it was so nice seeing you again," Kate interjected before waggling her fingers teasingly at Castle. "Bye, Castle. I'll call you when you're allowed to join us girls again."

Castle pulled an exaggerated pout even as his eyes were bright. "Fine, go ahead and leave me all alone while you have fun."

Alexis giggled. "See you later, Daddy!"

And with that, Alexis tugged and Kate made a show of being pulled along for awhile before they fell into step together back towards her car. "Ready for our girls' afternoon out, Captain Castle?"

"So ready!" Alexis skipped a little. "We're going to have such fun, Kate!"

Yeah, Kate thought so too.

* * *

Castle watched his daughter and his girlfriend walk down the street, hand in hand. As he watched, Kate turned to say something to Alexis and his daughter responded with a beaming smile and a little skip in her steps that had his heart clenching a little in his chest. Alexis looked so happy and after how crushed she had been over Meredith's broken promise, it occurred to him, not for the first time, that no matter how he tried or what happiness he thought he brought to Kate's life, it would never be enough to repay what Kate did for Alexis.

He had momentarily forgotten that his mother was still beside him, only to be reminded at the sound of her voice by his ear. "Katherine Beckett is a good woman."

He turned and glanced at his mother. It was high praise from Martha Rodgers, simple as the statement was, a sign of how sincerely and seriously she meant it. When his mother praised in her usual dramatic terms, he knew she was being hyperbolic, praising more for the effect of it than because she necessarily meant it all. "I know." His eyes sought Kate and Alexis again—he couldn't keep his gaze away from the two people he loved the most, his mother's presence notwithstanding.

He felt his mother slip her hand into his arm. "She's good for you, Richard, smart and capable enough to keep you in line." Well, that sounded more like his mother.

He huffed a little in automatic protest. "You know, I can take care of myself, Mother."

His mother snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it, dear."

Ha, she should talk but he left that unsaid. It was Mother's Day after all.

"And Alexis obviously adores Katherine," his mother went on, taking the wind out of his sails.

"Yeah, she does," he murmured.

"If you'll take my advice, Richard, you shouldn't let that girl get away. She's good for you, good for Alexis. Someone like her doesn't come along every day so hold on to her. It might be the smartest thing you ever do."

He turned and raised his eyebrows at her. "That had already occurred to me but thank you, Mother. Your faith in me is overwhelming," he returned dryly.

She swatted at him. "Oh, hush, I'm only making sure you know. Now, be a good boy and call me a cab. I have another appointment."

Of course she did. He obediently hailed a cab for his mother, helping her inside after a kiss on her cheek. "Happy Mother's Day."

His mother patted his cheek. "Thank you, my boy."

He lifted a hand in a wave as the cab slid back into traffic before turning and starting to walk roughly in the direction of the loft. He was somewhat at loose ends since he needed to kill a few hours before he'd be allowed to rejoin Kate and Alexis again. What to do…

As he considered his options, his mother's words returned to him. His mother, as much as he didn't like admitting any such thing to her, was right, although he had already come to the conclusion that he never wanted to lose Kate. He was in love with her, absolutely, he knew that, more and more strongly every day. She was amazing with Alexis, her quick wit and humor was delightful and kept him on his toes, and she was beautifully physically affectionate and oh so responsive, it never failed to thrill him. He was happy, really and truly happy and in love in a way he couldn't remember being since, well, Kyra. And this relationship with Kate already felt deeper, more serious, than his relationship with Kyra ever had been because he wasn't a boy in college anymore.

And yet… He couldn't help but wonder what it would take for Kate to truly let him in, to her life, her heart. He could wait, of course, and he wasn't about to push her. It wasn't an urgent thing. They had, after all, only been together for about a month (god, had it really only been a month?) And things were great. Really they were. He was happy and so deeply in love he was afraid he'd never recover if, well, _if_ …

He just… wondered sometimes. Oh, Kate was warm and caring and unstintingly generous with her affection, not just in bed but out of it too, with him and with Alexis. It felt nitpicky and ungrateful to even think it but she herself remained, in some ways, a mystery, self-contained.

She was so good at giving of herself, focusing so much on Alexis and him, but when it came to herself, she was still reticent. She spoke about her daily life, her job, and from the sound of it, she didn't have much of a life outside of her work and now, her time with him and Alexis. But anything else, not much. She had told him a little about her mom's death and how it affected her. But he couldn't help but notice—especially after a meal like they'd just had—that she never really talked about her dad. He knew from her passing mentions that she saw her dad every weekend, which spoke for a level of closeness, of her dad's importance to her. And he knew from what she'd told him that her dad had had some troubles with alcohol but had finished rehab and was, Castle assumed, still sober months later. But otherwise, Kate never mentioned her dad. It wasn't lost on Castle that the only reason he even knew her dad's name—James Beckett—and that he was a lawyer was from the little research Castle had done into Kate's mother's murder months ago. It went without saying that he'd never met Kate's dad.

Castle couldn't even be certain that Kate's dad knew about their relationship. He thought—assumed—Kate's dad knew because Kate did not seem like the sort to keep such a secret or want to be in a secret relationship but Kate had never mentioned it in so many words and Castle hadn't wanted to ask outright.

It wasn't a big deal, at least not yet, but Castle did wonder about it, especially today. Kate had not only met his mother but his mother approved of Kate already, was fully prepared to welcome Kate into the family. Obviously, most people had more filters, more subtlety, and more discretion than Martha Rodgers did but the asymmetry did seem a little stark.

He knew his family situation was different, the presence of Alexis made an obvious difference to how involved his family would necessarily be in any serious relationship he had, whereas Kate lived alone, but still, he wondered.

He was being silly, making mountains out of molehills, he told himself firmly, as he detoured into a coffee shop to get a cup of coffee. Kate Beckett _cared_ about him, cared about his daughter, with all the sincerity and warmth of her character. He knew that. It was in her eyes when she smiled at him or Alexis, in her touch, in her kiss. Everything she did, the way she acted with them, proved the way she felt. His girlfriend was the most amazing woman he'd ever met and she was at this very moment spending her day with his daughter to make his daughter happy—what more could he possibly want?

* * *

The activity Alexis had picked for their girls' afternoon was pottery painting. Kate didn't remember ever having done such a thing before but one of Alexis's friends had hosted a birthday party at a pottery place last year and Alexis had enjoyed it and asked to come back to the same pottery place.

A design assistant took them to a small table and outfitted them with aprons of sorts to protect their clothing from the paint and then showed them the various supplies that were available, which were not limited to paint and brushes. They had a large variety of pre-made pottery ready to be painted, from plates to bowls to mugs to little keepsake dishes, in assorted shapes and sizes. And for those who were not so confident in their artistic abilities, they had design books and sample pieces of painted pottery to provide inspiration, as well as a plethora of stencils and other things to assist in people's artistic endeavors.

Alexis picked a plate to work on first and then sorted through the stencils before pulling out one in the shape of the Batman insignia with a laugh. "Look, Kate, I think I'll make one for Daddy. What do you think?"

Kate smiled at Alexis. "I'm sure he would love that." She had no doubt that not only would Castle treasure a piece of pottery painted by Alexis, he would undoubtedly praise it to the skies as the best work of artistic achievement since Picasso.

Kate chose a mug to paint. "What do you think I should paint on this?"

"Why don't you paint something for your dad too?"

Kate wondered how her dad would react to receiving a piece of hand-painted pottery from her. A silly, somewhat childish gift but it occurred to her that maybe that would be a way to break through some of the lingering awkwardness between her and her dad, try to recapture some of the old ease.

"You know, that's a very good idea, Alexis." She sifted through the stencils and found one for a baseball and another of the Mets logo. That worked.

"Are you all set, Alexis?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh."

"Okay, good, so am I." She smiled at the girl as they returned to their painting station. Kate was not artistically inclined so she quickly decided to keep things simple, painting the overall mug a dark blue, similar enough to the shade of blue on a Mets baseball cap and put a baseball on one side of the mug and the Mets insignia of the interlocking NY on the other. It should be straightforward enough, thanks to the stencils, and surely even she could trace around a stencil.

Alexis, unsurprisingly, tackled painting the plate for Castle with a single-minded intensity of focus that was no doubt inherited from her dad. Castle showed the same sort of focus when he was listening to or speaking about something he was interested in.

Alexis wore an adorable little frown of concentration on her face as she painted, tracing the outline of the Batman insignia on the plate with a care and attention to detail that would have done credit to a professional artist.

They worked on their respective pieces of pottery mostly in companionable silence although Kate was careful to keep half an eye on Alexis (unnecessarily, really), only exchanging the occasional comment or question.

Perhaps an hour or so had gone by before Alexis held up her plate in careful hands and displayed it for Kate to see. "I've finished the plate for Daddy. What do you think?"

"That looks great! Your dad's going to love it." Castle would love it regardless but Kate's praise was sincere. The Batman insignia had pride of place in the center of the plate but Alexis had also embellished the border of the plate with a neat series of lines and dashes interspersed with tiny versions of the Batman logo, these more roughly drawn since Alexis had done them by hand, but they were recognizable, which was what really mattered. The overall effect was a Batman lover's dream collectible.

"Thanks, Kate." Alexis beamed and carefully set the plate aside. "I'm going to pick something else to paint."

Alexis slid off the stool and returned to the supply table in the center of the room while Kate kept an unobtrusive eye on the girl until she returned with a mug like the one Kate was painting now.

"Alexis, just a sec, you have some paint on your cheek." Just a dash of yellow on one cheek, probably from when Alexis had thoughtlessly pushed back a strand of hair with a hand while still holding her paintbrush.

"Oh." Alexis turned to Kate, lifting her face with such trust that Kate's chest felt tight with an odd pang as she reached for one of the paper towels provided.

Kate dampened the paper towel and gently wiped the smudge of paint from the girl's cheek before smiling and lightly tweaking one of the girl's pigtails. "There, all gone now."

"Thanks, Kate."

They resumed their painting, Alexis starting to paint her mug a navy blue.

It was just after 4 when Alexis finished her painting and declared they could leave, with Kate promising to return that evening to pick up their pieces of pottery once the pottery center had finished firing and glazing the pottery.

"That was fun! Did you have fun too, Kate?"

"I did. I've never painted pottery before and I liked it." She meant it too, somewhat surprisingly. She hadn't really been expecting to enjoy herself when Alexis suggested it; she wasn't an artist and Kate didn't generally enjoy doing things she had no talent for but if it was what Alexis wanted, Kate would do it. But she found that it had been enjoyable, relaxing because it hadn't required much thought, just some care, and seeing the finished result had been oddly satisfying. "Where to next, Captain Castle?"

"Tea! I'm hungry too so it'll be good. And you can tell Daddy he can meet us now. Daddy already knows the address."

Kate duly texted Castle that he was no longer banished from their company (his phrasing) before she drove to Alexis's next chosen activity of the day, tea at a place called Alice's Tea Cup, another new place for Kate.

The address Alexis directed her to turned out to be a residential neighborhood in Manhattan, relatively quiet. She found a parking spot and the fact that they were in the right place was immediately confirmed because Alexis pointed with a quick shout. "It's Daddy!" Sure enough, it was Castle, emerging from a cab across the street.

Alexis's shout had caught his attention and his head snapped around as he smiled, lifting a hand in a wave before he waited for a break in traffic to lope across the street to them. "Hello. Fancy meeting you two here," he greeted before swinging Alexis up to smack a kiss to her cheek. "Did you have fun without me?"

Alexis's answer was enthusiastic as they walked down the sidewalk to Alice's Tea Cup that turned out to be a relatively nondescript establishment with a brightly colored awning covering the steps leading down to the door. Inside was a small, cozy, whimsical tea house, with brightly-painted walls with designs of swirls and butterfly wings painted on them, small groupings of tables and chairs, accompanied by colorful teapots and dainty teacups. It was crowded but, Kate instantly noted, every person there with the exception of Castle was female, ranging in age from a couple outright babies to a few who appeared to be grandmothers accompanying their granddaughters.

Castle could not have been unaware of this (he was observant and she knew he'd been here before with Alexis) but he appeared serenely unconscious of his solitary status as the lone male in what was probably the most overtly feminine room Kate had ever been in herself.

They were directed to a table in one corner with Castle perching himself on one of the small chairs that were not child-sized per se but had really not been designed for a large adult male either. Kate felt rather ungainly herself although she knew it was mostly just discomfiture with the surroundings. She was a cop; she was not used to dainty or even, well, girly surroundings such as this one. Alexis, of course, fit right in and looked delighted, which made a little tendril of happiness unfurl inside Kate's chest.

They ordered tea and an assortment of little sandwiches, petit fours, and other dessert items and as Alexis had promised, both the tea and the food was very good.

Kate would have expected that Castle would look ridiculous in such surroundings but she found the effect was actually the exact opposite. He looked… sexy, virile. (Oh god, she could not believe she'd just thought that word.) Her mouth had gone dry and she felt an entirely inappropriate flush of heat humming through her body with every glance at him. She tried, without much success, to tamp it down because really, they were surrounded by children, including his own daughter. She had absolutely no business thinking about such things in that place and time. And yet, she was.

Not helped by the fact that she knew she wasn't the only one who noticed. She didn't miss the glances at him from other women, some appearing mostly curious and some who looked like they recognized him, but a few had appreciative gleams in their eyes that Kate entirely understood, even if she wasn't exactly thrilled to see it. But Castle was a good-looking man and in such a feminine-looking place, he looked even more male in contrast, bigger, broader, stronger. (And yeah, the doting dad thing, of even being willing to come and have tea in such a place, added to the sexiness too.)

He caught her eye and even though she tried for blandness, she knew he'd read at least some of what she was thinking in her expression because his lips curved into a slow smile redolent with male smugness. Damn.

She took a hasty, overlarge gulp of tea and deliberately focused on Alexis. Today was about Alexis, that was the main thing, she reminded herself firmly, and managed to stick to it for the rest of tea.

After tea, Kate turned to Alexis. "What's next, Captain?"

Alexis grinned at the title. "We need to pick up our pottery, don't we, Kate?"

"You're right, we do. Thanks for reminding me. And then, what do you want to do?"

Alexis wanted to watch a movie and so after picking up the pottery, they went to a theatre, with Castle insisting on buying popcorn and candy even though they had just eaten with their tea. By the time the movie ended, Alexis was starting to fade a little, unsurprisingly, as it was her bedtime, and it made the short drive back to the loft a quiet one.

Back at the loft, Alexis seemed to wake up a little. "I want Kate to tuck me in tonight. You don't mind, right, Daddy? You tuck me in every night."

Castle, of course, said that he didn't mind although Kate wondered, from the look on his face, if he meant it and scooped Alexis into a hug to wish her goodnight.

Alexis threw her arms around Castle's neck, kissing his cheek. "G'night, Daddy. Love you."

"Love you too, baby bird. Sleep well."

He released Alexis, who turned to Kate. "I'll see you upstairs, Kate."

There was just a trace of something like shyness in the girl's voice that had Kate gentling her tone. "I'll be up in a couple minutes. Go on and brush your teeth."

Kate turned to Castle, slipping her arm around him. "Hey, everything okay?"

He pulled a face of exaggerated woe. "I feel so replaceable."

She permitted herself a small smile, because she could tell from his expression and his tone that he was joking. "You really think there could be someone else as crazy as you are?"

He snorted. "Thanks for the reassurance."

She briefly smudged her smile against his. "Your ego's doing just fine."

He made a half-hearted attempt to entice her back for a more lengthy kiss but she evaded him easily. "Your daughter's waiting."

He heaved a beleaguered sigh but couldn't hide his smile, which she returned before going upstairs.

Alexis was already in bed, looking very small and young somehow. She had brought up the bag of the pottery they had painted, Kate belatedly noted, and was pensively staring at the mug she had painted in her hands.

Kate perched on the edge of the girl's bed. "It looks nice," she commented quietly. "You did a good job."

Alexis's smile was faint as she handed the mug over to Kate. "It's for you, Kate."

"For me?" Kate didn't need to pretend to be surprised.

"Yes. I wanted to thank you for spending the whole day with me."

"You don't need to thank me for that, Alexis. I had a lot of fun today."

Alexis scooted forward, closer to Kate. "I put stars on it like the star on your badge and I thought you could use a mug because I know you like coffee," she explained. And more than that, Kate noticed, Alexis had written 'NYPD' on the stars. Something went soft inside Kate's chest. Alexis really had made this for her.

"I love it, Alexis. In fact, I'm going to take it into work with me tomorrow."

Alexis smiled now and pitched forward to throw her arms around Kate. "Oh good." She didn't move or end the embrace and Kate waited patiently before she heard Alexis ask, very quietly, "Kate, why doesn't my mommy like to do things with me like you do?"

Oh shit. Kate's heart dropped down to her knees. She had wondered if Alexis would be able to be distracted completely from Meredith's desertion but she'd been lulled into relaxing because Alexis had been so cheerful all day.

Kate tightened her arms around the girl. "I'm sure your mom likes to do things with you," she assured Alexis. Untruthfully since, aside from never having met Meredith, nothing she knew of Meredith supported the belief that Meredith really enjoyed spending time with Alexis. Or more accurately, spending time with Alexis didn't rank higher than anything else Meredith might want. "It's just your mom is busy and she lives far away," she explained, rather lamely. She remembered Castle saying that he tried not to lie to Alexis but every time she asked about her mom, he had to lie. And now, so was she.

"You're busy too and you spend time with me."

Kate felt as if someone was digging her heart out with a butter knife. "I live right here in the City so it's easier for me." She also wasn't Alexis's mom.

After a long moment, Alexis lifted her face to reveal thankfully dry eyes. "I had fun today and that helped me miss my mommy less so thank you, Kate." It appeared Alexis had accepted her flawed reasoning about distance.

Kate smoothed back Alexis's hair and on impulse, pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead. "Thank you too, then, for letting me spend today with you so I would miss my mom less."

"Did I really help?"

"You really did. You always do, sweetpea. Now, I think it's time for you to sleep."

Alexis obediently slid down into bed, clutching Monkey Bunkey to herself. "Good night, Kate."

Kate tucked the girl in and touched her fingers lightly to Alexis's cheek. "Good night, Alexis."

Alexis shut her eyes, a little yawn escaping her, and Kate retreated to the door, not forgetting her new mug.

And then came a sleepy mumble, "Love 'ou, Kate."

Oh. Oh god. Kate's heart froze and then started clattering around in her chest. Alexis _loved_ her. And she… well, she couldn't deny that she sort of loved Alexis too. (Sort of? There was no sort of about it.) When had that happened?

And as for Alexis's father—no, no, she really was not going there. Not yet. Loving a kid was one thing, totally different from falling in—falling for a man. It _was_ different.

And either way, she _wasn't_ thinking about it.

She went straight into his arms when she returned downstairs, letting the press of his body, the heat of his kiss, make her mind go blank of any terrifying thoughts about emotions, falling back into the familiar, much safer territory of sheer lust.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I am going to be travelling so I will need to skip the regularly scheduled update next week. Apologies in advance for the longer than usual wait for the next chapter.

Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guest reviewers whom I can't thank directly.


	33. Chapter 33

Author's Note: This chapter nearly gave me fits in the writing of it and I don't know how well it turned out so I'm throwing myself on your mercy.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 33_

"Beckett! In my office, now," Montgomery called out.

Kate jerked her head up to see Hassan also in Montgomery's office. The traitor.

She'd tried her level best to hide any discomfort from Hassan and sworn up and down that she was just fine, didn't need an ambulance to be called and certainly did not need any mention of the incident to be reported. Clearly, Hassan had not been persuaded. Damn.

Kate forcibly smoothed her expression into stoic blankness as she creakily stood up and tried to stride into Montgomery's office with her usual briskness, ignoring the ache in her hip and knee. Really, she was fine as long as she didn't need to walk. "Yes, sir."

Montgomery eyed her dubiously. "Beckett, Hassan tells me Pitts decided to play hard to get." That was one way of putting it, considering Pitts had clearly pegged Beckett as the weaker link when he saw her and Hassan closing in and made a break for it, yanking her around by the arm and shoving her into a brick wall before attempting a mad dash, only to be brought down by her quick tackle. Which, on second thought, had maybe been unnecessary since Hassan was there and could have accomplished the same thing. But hindsight was 20/20 and Kate was not the sort to hold back and let anyone else do what she could also do.

Anyway, she was fine, still in one piece.

"I got him in the end and I'm fine, sir," she answered.

Sadly, Montgomery did not seem convinced. "Nice try, Beckett." He gave her a smile that would have done justice to a benevolent shark, if such a thing existed. One that Beckett knew too well to trust. "Now, I'll give you two options. One, you go see your friend, Dr. Parish, for a medical opinion and then I'm trusting you to listen to her instructions to the letter—and I will be calling her to find out. Or Hassan here will accompany you to the ER and make sure you're seen by some other doctor and, of course, listen to his or her instructions as well."

"I'll see Dr. Parish, sir."

"Good, good," Montgomery said, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with the same unsettling look. She should have transferred precincts to get a boss who didn't know her so well. And possibly a stupider one too. Montgomery, on the other hand, knew her very well and was not stupid at all. Lose-lose. "And unless Dr. Parish gives you a totally clean bill of health, I'm putting you on desk duty through Saturday. Any questions?"

That was 4 freaking days of desk duty! For what she was sure were just a couple bruises! "But sir—" she began only to trail off.

Montgomery raised an interrogative eyebrow. "Yes, Beckett?" He waited in silence, still with that same mildly inquisitive look on his face, reminding her that he'd been a homicide detective too and a damn good one at that.

She broke. "I don't want to make a big deal out of something so minor," she muttered. What she meant but did not say was that she didn't want to look weak. Could not afford to look weak. She was a woman in a man's job, to say nothing of being the youngest female detective ever. Which meant she needed to be smarter, tougher, and better than male detectives just to be accepted. She absolutely could not afford to look like she was being coddled or that she needed coddling.

Montgomery nodded. "I see," he said so mildly that anyone who didn't know him better might have thought he had been convinced. Kate knew better and sure enough. "And having attended medical school yourself, it's your expert opinion that your injuries from today's incident are minor?"

Kate kept her mouth shut. Her instinct was to respond to his sarcasm with sarcasm of her own but she could not do that to her Captain, at least not without being written up for insubordination.

Montgomery took her silence as acquiescence. Which it was, because she didn't have any other choice, damn him. "You're one of my people, Beckett," he went on, seriously now. "And I look after my people. Hassan here will take over finishing the paperwork for this case while you go see Dr. Parish."

"Yes, sir." She straightened up even more than she already was and then had to fight back a wince at the way her hip twinged. Damn.

She nodded at both Hassan and Montgomery before turning and making her very careful way back to her desk to gather her things and leave.

Lanie was not thrilled to see her for this reason, to say the least. Lanie scolded and scowled and interrogated Kate to within an inch of her patience to find out the details of what had happened and how Kate felt. She then proceeded to poke and prod and manipulate Kate's right arm into a number of different positions as if she were some sort of life-size action figure, all of which Kate did trying not to show by so much as a flicker of an eyelash the way her shoulder ached. Lanie released Kate's arm, frowning, and then after a minute, with no warning, suddenly and sharply prodded at Kate's shoulder. "Ow!" Kate yelped in spite of herself at the sharp stab of pain. Damn Lanie.

Lanie allowed herself a faint smirk. "I knew you were faking not being in pain, Beckett."

Kate scowled. "Well?"

Lanie surveyed her for a moment before answering, "The good news is that I don't think you've actually dislocated your shoulder so you shouldn't need to go to a hospital and get any real treatment."

"So I can go back to work?" Kate asked, hoping against hope. See, she knew it was minor.

"No," Lanie said flatly, pinning her with a look. "That was the good news. The bad news is that you seem to have a mild shoulder sprain and your shoulder is starting to swell a little so you need to go home and put some ice on it. I don't expect the swelling to get too bad but if it gets worse, you should go see a doctor."

"You are a doctor," Kate grumbled.

"I don't treat the living, remember, Beckett? If you're dead, we'll talk—so I can kick your skinny ass for getting yourself killed."

"That makes no sense," Kate pointed out, just to be difficult. (What? She was in pain, she had a right to be irritable.)

Lanie did not look amused. "I mean it, Beckett, if your shoulder starts to swell more in the next hour or two, go see a real doctor. But if you ice it and the swelling starts to go down, then you should be okay in a few days, provided that you give your shoulder and your arm some rest."

"So I can work?" Kate tried again.

"Fat chance, Beckett. By giving your shoulder a rest, I mean you should try not to use your right arm, in particular try not to lift anything heavier than, say, a cup of coffee, and I wouldn't advise you to lift your arm above your head for about 5 days, give or take. And from the sound of it, you've bruised your knee and your hip so you're going to be stiff and achy for a little while. You might consider a nice soak in a tub in the next day or two."

"Fine," Kate grumbled. A nice hot bath did sound good except her apartment right now did not have a tub. Castle had a bathtub, a small voice in her mind spoke up, but she ignored it. She was not going to go to Castle just to use his tub or anything else. She would just have to tell Castle she was too busy with work to see him this week. "Anything else?"

Lanie, irritatingly, smirked. "Now that you ask, yes. I'd also say you shouldn't use your gun unless you're firing it only using your left hand."

Desk duty it was, damn it.

Lanie wasn't done. "And knowing you, Beckett, stop off at a Duane Reade on your way home and get yourself a sling for your arm to remind you not to use it. I don't trust you not to overdo things."

"I do not need a sling for my arm."

"Doctor's orders, Beckett."

"I thought you didn't treat the living," Kate retorted.

Lanie eyed her. "Keep up with that attitude and you won't be living for that much longer."

Lanie wouldn't actually kill her but Kate decided not to push it. Besides, the real focus of her irritation was on Hassan for telling on her and on Montgomery, for ordering her to see Lanie in the first place and for putting her on desk duty. Yeah, Montgomery was definitely the primary focus of her ire. He was also, conveniently (for him), not present.

Kate grumbled but had no choice and duly stopped off at a Duane Reade to get a sling for her arm and then, for good measure, a decent-sized bag of chocolate. If she was going to be on desk duty, she deserved a reward. She grumbled her way back to her apartment, trying not to notice the fact that driving, too, was not helping the way her shoulder felt.

Once home, she changed out of her work slacks into more comfortable yoga pants and then hissed a little as she had to lift her arm over her head to change out of the sweater she had put on that morning. Lanie might have a point, not that Kate had any intention of telling her so. She'd been meaning to put on a t-shirt but changed her mind and pawed through her dresser before she found a soft cotton button-front top. That was better.

Once changed, she put her right arm in the sling and glared at it. A sling! It made her look more seriously injured than she really was. Lanie had no right, she thought balefully, for the moment ignoring the fact that Montgomery had ordered her to see Lanie.

Which reminded her, even more than the ongoing ache in her shoulder. Kate made her somewhat creaky way into her kitchen, retrieving a bag of frozen veggies from her freezer to put on her shoulder, and then sat down on her couch and turned on her TV, idly flipping the channels until she landed on some old reruns of _Temptation Lane_.

She was, for once, not in a mood to be entertained by its ridiculousness but she contented herself with glaring impartially at the characters on the screen and mentally casting imprecations at Pitts, for thinking he could beat her, at Hassan, for reporting what had happened to Montgomery, at Montgomery for forcing her to see Lanie and putting her on desk duty, and at Lanie for confirming that she should be on desk duty and making her wear this stupid sling, like she was actually seriously injured. So she was a little banged up, no big deal, she could manage just fine. She wasn't some delicate flower and she did not need or want coddling and she certainly didn't want to be on desk duty! Let alone for four whole damn days!

The bag of veggies had thawed out so Kate carefully stood up to toss it out and replaced it with another ice bag. She was on her way back to her couch when there was a sharp knock on her door, forcing her to pivot and make her way to her door, limping just a little, peering through the peephole to see that it was Castle.

Oh, Castle. For just a moment, she felt a flare of gladness, allowed herself to imagine being wrapped up in his arms, rest against the solid plane of his chest. She had the crazy thought that having him hold her would make the aches in her body go away or at least hurt less. But that was nonsense, completely absurd. She wasn't a child to believe that a kiss would make an injury go away. And anyway, Castle had Alexis to worry about and take care of. He didn't need her to be an extra burden on him, not now when she couldn't do much and was too achy to be able to paste on a smile for Alexis's sake. God, Alexis, she couldn't let Alexis know that she was hurt. Couldn't let the little girl worry or scare her. What had she been thinking to get so close to a kid?

She'd be fine on her own; she didn't need taking care of. She could handle things herself, just as she always had before.

She grimaced but then smoothed the expression out as she opened her door. "Hey, Castle. This is a surprise."

He went pale, his eyes wide, as he saw her, the sling on her arm, the ice bag she was holding to her shoulder. "Kate," he breathed. "Oh my god, Kate, are you okay?" He stepped inside her apartment as she stepped back. "Montgomery said you were hurt but—"

Wait, what?

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Montgomery told you? Are you talking to my boss about me behind my back?" she asked dangerously.

"What? No! Montgomery called me to let me know he's not going to be able to make it to our poker night tomorrow and then in passing, he mentioned that you got hurt today, figured I'd want to know. Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, Castle," she clipped out.

"You're not fine! Kate, your arm's in a sling! And you're limping! I don't think I like your job much anymore."

She felt a spike of irritation. "Yeah, well, I wasn't asking for your approval. I'm a cop, things happen."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it. God, Kate, look at you. Why didn't you call me, tell me what happened?"

Was that what he expected, wanted? That she would go running to him like some helpless damsel in distress because she got a few bruises?

"Because I don't need help. I can handle things, Castle. In fact, you'd better just go home. Tell Alexis I'm too busy with work to see her this week."

"What?" He gaped at her. "You can't be serious. I'm not going anywhere when you're hurt. Or if I do, it's if you come with me. In fact, that's a better idea. Come back home with me, Kate, so I can look after you. I have a fully stocked medicine cabinet and this way, I can take care of you and Alexis at the same time." His tone had firmed into one of authority that she'd never heard from him before—and didn't appreciate now.

"I'm not a child, Castle. I don't need you to take care of me and I'm too achy and tired to be any fun so you'd better just go home." This was why she hadn't wanted him to know, hadn't wanted to worry him or Alexis. She hated being treated like she was weak.

"You seriously expect me to just leave you alone when you're hurt and what, just wait for you to be better and decide you want to see me again? You can't just pick and choose the parts of your life that you want me to see."

"That's not what I'm doing," she flared. "I'm being realistic. You have Alexis to worry about and I'm fine. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not saying you can't, only that you don't have to. That's part of what being in a relationship means, that you don't have to be alone. I—I care about you and that means that I want all of you, every part, both the cool cop and the one who sometimes gets injured on the job. I don't just want the woman who has fun with my daughter and teases me. I want to take care of you, Kate."

She just wanted to be left alone. She hated hovering, hated this protectiveness that seemed too close to being patronizing.

"I didn't ask for you to come. I don't need to be taken care of and even if I did, I wouldn't ask for it from the perennial man-child so just go home, Castle. I can manage for myself."

His expression blanked for a moment under the lash of her words. "Fine, I don't want to intrude where I'm not wanted. Let me know when you feel like letting me in, Beckett," he clipped out and then he stalked out of her apartment, closing the door firmly behind him.

Kate turned and made her painful way back to her couch. There was absolutely no reason for her to imagine that her apartment suddenly felt colder, emptier, with him gone. She was used to being alone in her apartment. And she could take care of herself.

She stared blindly at the TV, no longer paying attention to it as she stewed in her own bad temper, and only belatedly became aware that _Temptation Lane_ was no longer playing and it had switched over to some annoying reality show. And the bag of ice had melted into a bag of water. She turned the TV off with an almost vicious click. Only to realize afterwards that doing so made her apartment seem way too quiet now, in a way that not even the usual background noise from traffic outside or the muffled conversations of her neighbors could dispel. Ridiculous! She was acting as if she'd never been alone in her apartment before.

She stood up with rash impatience and then scowled at the way her hip and knee protested the sudden movement and limped into her kitchen to toss the now-useless bag of water out and then decided to make herself some hot chocolate. Her shoulder was chilled now and she felt like she wanted the comfort of hot chocolate, something she only drank occasionally, when she missed her mom the most.

The hot chocolate was on the upper shelf of her cabinet, behind the jar of coffee so she was going to need to take the coffee out first before she could reach the hot chocolate. Given her coffee addiction, her jar of coffee was a large one and Kate realized just a little too late that what she could easily move with both hands was not so easily moved with just one hand, the loss of use of one arm leaving her off-balance and awkward as she fumbled to get a grip on the jar. The canister was too big for her to grip it with one hand and she realized a split second too late that she'd pushed it too far and the canister toppled right off the shelf and landed on her counter with a crack, the lid bouncing off as coffee grounds spilled over her counter and into her sink.

She made an incautious, instinctive move to catch the canister, jerking her right arm up, but all that achieved was a stab of pain in her shoulder as the sling made her movements awkward, and she swore, feeling the prick of the tears she so rarely cried. Oh, damn!

She surveyed the mess she had made of her kitchen, the amount of coffee that was going to go to waste—and she still couldn't get to her hot chocolate—and crazily, that was the thought that made her crumple, giving into a bout of tears that she was ashamed of once she'd calmed enough to realize that she was, if not crying over spilled milk, literally crying over spilled coffee.

Except it wasn't the coffee. She knew that.

It was just… her shoulder hurt, her hip ached, and her knee throbbed. She missed her mom. And she'd sent Castle away.

Picked a fight with him when he was being sweet, she admitted to herself. She knew she'd flared up at him and, well, lashed out at him to make him leave. Maybe—maybe—he could have phrased it a little better rather than making it sound like he intended to be patronizing or ordering her to come back to the loft with him but she could admit now that she had overreacted.

And she'd hurt him. She remembered the way his expression had changed when she had referred to him as the perennial man-child and winced, suddenly hating herself. How could she have said that? Why had she treated him like that?

She sniffed as she swiped at her cheeks before starting to clean up the mess she had made, righting the canister of coffee and closing it, before wiping up the coffee grounds. The mindless task helped to calm her a little as she tried to sort through her messed up emotions.

Once she was finished, she left her apartment, taking a cab rather than driving. She needed to see Castle. Wanted to see him. And, well, he had been right too. Maybe she could manage on her own but she didn't need to do that, not anymore.

She didn't think she'd been so nervous to see Castle since, well, since the night after the Trevor Adelson case, since they had gotten together. No, actually, she might be more nervous now because now, she _knew_ how sweet Castle could be as a boyfriend, knew how happy he could make her. And how had she treated him? She was a terrible girlfriend. Assuming he still wanted her to be his girlfriend. She felt a spasm of terror.

She found herself fidgeting with the hem of her shirt with her free hand as she waited for the elevator to deposit her on the top floor and then as she waited for her knock to be answered.

She could have sworn that it took longer than usual for the door to be opened but she wasn't sure if that was true or due to her own nervousness. But whatever the case, eventually, the door did open to reveal Castle, his rather grim expression and steely jaw making for a strange contrast with the fact that he was wearing a _Star Wars_ apron, of Darth Vader and the words 'The Force is strong with this one.' Weirdly, it might have been the apron that affected her the most because it seemed to symbolize just how unjust she'd been to call him the perennial man-child because no matter how silly Castle could be, he was also a responsible, devoted single father and that should never have been belittled.

"Hi," she offered lamely.

"Hi." His tone and his expression were not encouraging but Castle's good manners were ingrained and he stepped back, allowing her to step inside.

"Where's Alexis?"

"She's upstairs, finishing up a school assignment." His expression softened a little, as always, at the mention of his daughter.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out without preamble. "I was… a jerk and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again—"

"I'm pretty sure Alexis would have some objections to that," he interrupted, a faintly dry edge to his voice. He met her eyes and softened a little more. "And I'm not thrilled at the idea myself. Come sit down, Kate."

She marginally relaxed. He wasn't breaking up with her. As long as that was true, as long as he still wanted to be with her, she could handle anything else. (Right?)

She couldn't seem to bring herself to meet his eyes once they sat down, chickening out from looking at the somber lines of his expression and focusing instead on the floor. "I'm sorry," she repeated, starting with the only words she'd really planned to say. Beyond that, she wasn't sure how to explain in words how she'd acted. She was never good at putting what she felt into words and talking about her weaknesses wasn't exactly her strong suit either. "I—I overreacted and I wasn't fair to you and I picked a fight when you hadn't done anything to deserve it."

That made him respond as he sighed, "I could have been more tactful. I didn't mean to make it sound like I was criticizing your job."

"I know. I just… I'm not good at this, at relationships. I'm not good at… having people care about me." Why did that sound stupid? But it was true. She wasn't sure if she'd ever really been the sort of person who wanted coddling—even when her mom had been alive, she'd had a tendency to barricade herself into her room alone when she was hurt and her mom had been the only person who'd been able to breach that barrier—but since her mom had died, it had gotten worse. Lanie was the only person in her life who really inquired into her well-being—Lanie and now Castle too. For years, her dad had been in no state to take care of himself, let alone take care of her, and even now, she couldn't—wouldn't—let him see that anything hurt her. She hadn't had anyone to even try to take care of her in years, had trained herself to rely only on herself as much as possible. "I'm not used to it."

But she was starting to realize that things were different now. Castle was the difference. She'd come to him after the Trevor Adelson case, had managed to talk to him about that—but that had been a bad case, not something as personal to her. This was different, threatened her independence in a way she could not easily accept. Not helped by the fact that physical vulnerability was something she tried her level best to deny and avoid as much as possible because she knew she was starting out at a disadvantage from being a woman and she hated that.

"Oh, Kate…" His quiet words were the precursor to him shifting closer to her, his arm gently curling around her uninjured shoulder and she allowed herself to lean against him, her face tucked against the collar of his shirt. Her throat felt tight with a surge of emotion, stupid tears pricking at the back of her eyes as she realized that not only was he not going to reproach her, he still wanted to comfort her.

"I—I don't want to lose you," she choked out. "I'll try to get better and—and you were right, I don't have to manage alone. I didn't mean to shut you out. I know I'm not… open but I will try…"

"It's okay, Kate," he murmured. "I understand. And you won't lose me," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere." He tightened his arm around her, shifting closer, but his knee knocked against her bruised one and his other arm jostled her injured shoulder, and she flinched in spite of herself and he released her as if he'd been burned. "God, Kate, I'm sorry, are you okay?"

She managed a faint, reassuring smile for his benefit. "Yeah, just a little banged up. Lanie already checked me over and said I'll be fine in a few days."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." But if this was going to work, she needed to be clear too, there were some parts of her personality that she simply couldn't change. "But Castle, I should warn you I'm really not a good patient and I don't like a lot of hovering. I'm here and I'll stay but don't smother me, okay?"

He made a rueful face. "I'll try."

Castle liked to take care of people and he was used to it with Alexis. It would take some adjustment on his part too. Give and take, the way a relationship should be.

He leaned in again, more carefully this time, one hand coming up to cup her cheek as he kissed her and she felt a ridiculous surge of emotion, so much relief and affection, that she deepened the kiss immediately, sliding her left hand into his hair and letting her tongue surge into his mouth. Oh, she wanted him—well, she always wanted him, was beginning to think she always would. He gave a soft gasp that was swallowed by her mouth and—

A loud beeping sound made them both start and jerk apart and Castle huffed something that seemed like a combination of a laugh and a sigh. "The baked potatoes are done," he explained as he stood up and returned to the kitchen.

Oh, right, her arrival had interrupted his dinner preparations. She followed him to the kitchen and somewhat gingerly perched on one of the stools at the counter.

Castle retrieved the potatoes from the oven. "You know, the other sad thing about you being hurt is that we just had our first argument but we can't have really hot make-up sex tonight," he observed conversationally.

She huffed a laugh. Oh, this man. How could he always manage to make her laugh? "Yeah, well, give me a couple days and I promise I'll make it up to you," she drawled, throwing as much seductive promise into her voice and her look as she could muster.

"I'll hold you to that," he husked but any further flirtation was abruptly cut off with the sound of footsteps on the stairs as Alexis scampered downstairs.

"Kate, you're here!" She ran to greet Kate only to stop short at the sight of Kate's arm, her eyes going wide. "You're hurt! What happened? Are you okay?"

Kate summoned up a bright, reassuring smile. "I'm fine. I had to tackle a suspect and I landed on my arm the wrong way," she hedged. "It's just some bruises and I'll be as good as new in a few days," she assured the girl.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"No," she lied. "Don't worry about me, Alexis. I'm mostly hungry right now so I'm waiting for your dad to feed me," she changed the subject.

Alexis's expression eased into a smile before she turned to her dad. "I'm hungry too, Daddy. Is dinner almost ready?"

Castle's smile was tender, as always when he looked at Alexis. "Almost. Give it about 10 minutes. In the meantime, why don't you tell us about the school assignment you were working on."

Alexis agreed and started to explain the essay she had just written about a person she admired—Joan of Arc—and why, while Castle made a show of being shocked and hurt that Alexis hadn't chosen to write about him as the person she admired.

Kate had to laugh, feeling her bad temper lifting, dissipating like mist in the face of the sun. They just made her happy and somehow, that helped, made her forget her various aches and pains, made her forget the annoyance of being on desk duty for the next four days.

Coming here, apologizing to Castle, revealing all her vulnerability to him, had not been easy but she was starting to think it might have been the best decision she'd made since deciding she wanted to be with Castle in the first place. She didn't like relying on people or having to ask for help but she trusted Castle—it occurred to her that she might trust Castle more than anyone else in her life—and maybe, after all, for him, she could compromise some of her Beckett self-reliance. She never had before but then she'd never cared this much before either, never wanted a relationship to last this much before. But Castle—she didn't want to lose him, never wanted to lose him.

She was addicted to him, not just to his kisses and his touches, but also to his humor and his understanding, the way he brightened up her life.

And she would make it up to him, she promised herself, would try to be as good for him and for Alexis as he was to her.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you all for reading and reviewing!


	34. Chapter 34

Author's Note: Back with your regularly scheduled update...

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 33_

It was not easy.

Kate really wished that life could be more like some happy movie where after she apologized and told Castle she would try to let him in more, everything would slip into place and that would be that, all issues solved just by naming the problem. But things didn't happen like that.

Relying on someone else, even someone she trusted as much as she trusted Castle, went against the grain, was at odds with well-honed habits and inclinations. But she was trying.

She made the conscious choice to return to the loft after finishing up at work, in spite of the fact that being on desk duty made her irritable and she was conscious of the nagging wish to lick her wounds in solitude. But she had promised to try and to stay and she wanted to keep her promise.

She was trying. Once she was back at the loft, she made a conscious effort to bite her tongue, not to give into the irritability nagging at her. But it wasn't easy and she realized that part of it was that she simply wasn't used to having to soften her hard edges after work because she was used to living alone, without having to deal with anyone else. Her answer to Castle's question about her day at work was monosyllabic and she was short almost to the point of rudeness when he asked how she felt before he took the not-subtle hint and changed the subject to Alexis's plans for this afternoon spent at her friend Taylor's house, where she had gone after school.

And later, as he busied himself with the preparations for dinner, it didn't get much better. He appeared to have taken her warning not to hover to heart but what he was doing instead might be even worse, sneaking quick sidelong glances at her every few minutes as if he thought she was made out of blown glass, so fragile she would break at an errant puff of wind. It was insufferable. She had almost gotten used to the way Castle looked at her as if she was the eighth wonder of the world, even if she felt a little niggle of self doubt wriggling through her when he did so because she couldn't quite believe that she deserved it, but now he was looking at her with so much caution and care in his eyes. And she hated it. Hated being treated as if she was helpless, hated more that there was actually a grain of truth to it because not having the full use of one arm was something of a handicap. A day of trying to do paperwork with her right arm in a sling had proven that.

She didn't react to his constant glances, partly because she knew she was being just a little unreasonable to get so annoyed just from him looking at her but not really doing anything, but finally she just snapped. Her temper flared up at Castle when he coolly started to cut up her steak without so much as asking whether he should, sniping that she wasn't an infant who needed to be fed.

She saw the twinge of irritation flash across his expression but he didn't respond in words, his lips tightening at the corners in the only real evidence that he was irritated too but was refraining from lashing out in turn.

Which, oddly enough, made her temper flare higher because his forbearance only made her feel guilty for being so sharp with him and she didn't like feeling guilty either. She glowered at her plate and her steak but neither plate nor steak reacted, depriving her of any satisfaction. She took her roweling frustration out on the steak in another way, almost savagely attacking it with her knife and fork. She realized within a minute that she'd made a mistake and Castle might have been right because she didn't have enough dexterity to use the knife with her left hand and trying to use a knife with her right arm in a sling was awkward and the pressure of her grip on the knife made tension shoot up her arm, resulting in pain flaring in her shoulder. She was stubborn enough to stick it out to cut one piece but not quite stupid enough to continue after that; aggravating her injury wasn't going to help her.

She put her knife down and ventured a sheepish glance at Castle, biting her lip, as she admitted with something less than good grace, "I think I need your help after all."

To his credit, Castle didn't say, _I told you so_. The set of his lips did ease as he moved her plate closer to him and proceeded to neatly cut her steak into bite-size pieces. He must have performed this same service for Alexis as of a few years ago and now he was having to do it again for her. And he was being so patient with her, putting up with her irritability and not returning fire.

"Thanks, Castle," she said as he finished, her tone softer now.

The words made him flash a quick smile. "Glad to help." The words were facile, commonplace, but she couldn't doubt their sincerity. He really was happy to help, not just because he was kind, but because he cared about her. And she really owed him more than she'd been giving.

She leaned in to curve her uninjured arm around his neck, bringing him in so she could kiss first his cheek and then his lips as he turned his head to meet hers. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," she breathed against his skin. "You didn't deserve that and I don't know how you're being so patient with me being such a bitch."

"That wasn't the word I had in mind to describe you."

"A jerk then?"

He huffed a laugh and kissed her softly. "Not a jerk either. And as for me being patient, chalk it up to being a dad. You learn to bite your tongue and get over being annoyed pretty quickly, even with a kid like Alexis."

She supposed that made sense. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure how her parents had put up with her when she'd been a teenager or even a little kid either. Not that she could imagine Alexis being even remotely as annoying as her younger self must have been. "Still. I'll try not to snap at you so much."

"It's only been a day, Beckett, you haven't snapped at me much at all. And besides, I think you're kind of cute when you're annoyed. You get this little crinkle between your eyebrows; it's cute."

"I think you're biased. But also very sweet, to try to make me feel less guilty about being so irritable."

"If it'll make you feel any better, I promise to keep a mental tally of how many times you snap at me and use that to extract sexual favors from you once you're fully healed," he suggested with a mock leer.

She laughed, even as her heart squeezed with a ridiculous surge of affection for him, for the way he could make her laugh. "I take it back, you're not sweet at all," she returned dryly.

He grinned against her cheek. "Then my work here is done." His tone changed as he nudged her. "Come on, Beckett, we should eat before our food gets cold."

She gave him another quick kiss just because she wanted to before she drew back, letting her fingers ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck in a light caress that she knew he liked, felt the little ripple of reaction go through him in response, saw it in the flash of his eyes. Thanks to her injuries, they hadn't done anything other than sleep last night but tonight, she was feeling somewhat less stiff and achy and with the help of the nice soak in Castle's tub that she was planning after dinner, she thought she could start to make it up to him. She didn't doubt that he would be careful with her—too careful probably—so they could make love without worry. Wait, what? Oh god. It was just words, just an overused term when people wanted to soften the bluntness of the word 'sex,' it didn't really have to do with that terrifying four letter word starting with L. It didn't have to mean that she felt… well, that.

She liked Castle, a lot. Cared about him so much it made her entire chest feel tight sometimes when he gave her one of his small, soft smiles or when he kissed her or when they curled up together in bed. She wanted him all the time, or so it seemed. She liked his smile and his laugh, liked even more being able to make him laugh. Her life was just better in so many ways (in every way?) with him in it. But she wasn't ready to put a label on what she felt for him, had an irrational sneaking fear that putting a label on it would somehow change things. Castle was her boyfriend, _her_ Castle, and she didn't want that to change.

She pushed the thought of any terrifying emotions aside and focused on eating her dinner, for once rather thankful that just using her fork with her left hand required just that extra bit of attention since she wasn't accustomed to it that eating wasn't quite as mindless a task as it usually was.

It was easier once Alexis returned home from spending the evening at her friend Taylor's house since Alexis naturally became the focus of most of Castle's attention. It helped too that the girl's beaming smile and bright chatter made it impossible for Kate to stay in a bad mood, distracting her from her physical discomfort and making it easy to smile and laugh.

Fortunately, Alexis was home the next couple evenings, providing a buffer from Castle's instinct to hover, and that helped to make the evenings pass as pleasantly as the evenings at the loft usually did. It made Kate's heart stutter a little in her chest with hope that this relationship could really work. No, scratch that, she already knew that this relationship worked; what she hoped and wanted was for this relationship to _last_ for, well, a long time. She could adjust to having someone—two someones—care about her, could learn to let Castle in.

And as she caught the bright sapphire flash of his eyes, felt him rather absently drop a kiss on her hair as he placed her dinner plate on the table, all the while keeping up his steady stream of teasing Alexis, she thought it might not be that hard to let him in as long as she was with them. Their mere presence in her life, their company, seemed to have a way of chipping away at her defenses, like water wearing on rock.

Saturday was, thankfully, her last day of desk duty and when Kate went to see Lanie, on Montgomery's orders, Lanie somewhat begrudgingly agreed, after interrogating Kate again as to how her arm felt, that it could be her last day of wearing the sling too as long as she refrained from doing any overhead lifting for the next couple days. Kate easily agreed to that, too relieved to be done with the stupid sling that seemed to have done nothing but get in the way, to quibble.

By rights, since she happily discarded the sling once her shift was over, Kate could have returned to her own apartment that night. She might have even expected to want to return to her own apartment but she found herself heading back towards the loft instead. Castle would want to hear the update on her arm, she reasoned, and she hadn't told him that she would no longer need to stay over at the loft so it would only be fair to give him the news first and then return to sleep in her own apartment the next evening. It all worked out nicely since she was meeting up with her dad for dinner tomorrow as it was and so had no reason to go to the loft after work tomorrow anyway. It was the polite thing to do, to see Castle and thank him for helping her out these past few days, she told herself virtuously. (Polite, ha, a voice in her mind commented skeptically, just like her decision had nothing to do with the fact that the absence of the sling would also mean she and Castle could be somewhat more, um, athletic in his bed that night. He wouldn't have to be quite so careful with her.)

Never mind. She was allowed to have more than one motive.

If she'd had any doubt that she'd made the right decision to come to the loft, it would have been immediately assuaged by the way Castle's expression lit up at the sight of her. "Kate! You took the sling off! Does that mean your arm is totally better?"

"As long as I don't try to bench-press a trunkful of bricks," she quipped. "But look, I can do this again." So saying, she curved both her arms, including her newly-freed right arm, around his neck, reveling in the freedom to do so, reveling more in the way his eyes darkened as he slid his arms around her waist to tug her body more firmly against him.

His lips curved. "Nice," he approved, "and that means I can do this." He took her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss, not so gentle anymore, his tongue hot and aggressive as he plundered her mouth. One of his hands slid down to cup her butt and then further, tugging one thigh up until she was arching into him. She was vaguely aware of hearing a faint moan and—

He abruptly released her with a suddenness that had her gasping for breath and sagging against him, her knees not quite firm beneath her. What—why had he—what was wrong now? She tried to cudgel her brain back into working order.

As if he read her mind or more prosaically, could read her expression, he explained, his voice satisfyingly breathless, "We can't. Alexis."

Alexis. Oh right. She hadn't even—god, had they just traumatized the girl? What had she been thinking, making out with Castle like this in full view of the entire first floor of the loft? She glanced past Castle, her eyes seeking out the familiar head of red hair but thankfully didn't find it. "Where is Alexis?"

"She's in her room. She wanted to finish up her book before dinner but she could come down anytime."

She relaxed a little, letting herself lean on him again, at least for the moment. Oh, okay, they hadn't traumatized Alexis then. She should have known Castle would never have kissed her like that if Alexis had been around to witness it. "We'll have tonight," she said, trying to sound philosophical (or something), rather than overly eager but knew she failed when he huffed a soft laugh.

"Count on it." He brushed a light, almost chaste kiss to her temple before releasing her and stepping back a little. "Did you get a clean bill of health then?"

She made the facial equivalent of a shrug. "The bruises will take a little longer to fully disappear but other than that."

"Good. And you won't be on desk duty anymore from tomorrow?"

"Right. Thank goodness. I think another day of paperwork might have driven me insane."

He laughed as he turned to return to the kitchen. "Too bad you couldn't take me into work with you because as a writer, I'm a master of working on paper."

She snorted. "Yeah, I don't think our police reports need your particular brand of melodrama."

He turned to give her a look of exaggerated shock and horror. "How can you say such a thing? I'll have you know my books have been praised for their gritty realism!"

"The reviewers must have been drunk," she retorted, biting back her smile. Really, it should have been impossible for a grown man to be so adorable and yet, he really was. And she didn't know why she found his tendency to histrionics to be so… cute but somehow she did.

He threw her a mock scowl. "Just for that, you're not getting any wine tonight."

She smirked. "That's okay, I'll just ask Alexis if I can have wine to drink." Since Alexis usually was in charge of drinks, albeit only the non-alcoholic ones.

"Excuse me, my 9-year-old is not the bartender in this household. I'm in charge of the alcohol, thank you very much."

"Actually, according to Alexis, it's Martha that's in charge of the alcohol, not you."

"My daughter is a traitor," he mumbled in mock disgruntlement.

"Your daughter is delightful," she countered.

He couldn't pretend to hold on to his bad temper at that, his expression breaking open as he gave her one of his soft smiles, that light in his eyes that made butterflies appear in her stomach. "Yeah, she is."

For a moment, their eyes met and held and Kate felt a coil of warmth expand in her chest until it seemed to encompass all her insides. Oh, what this man could do to her.

And then the moment was broken by the sound of footsteps and as if she'd been summoned by their talking about her, Alexis came skipping downstairs. "I finished my book, Daddy!"

Her smile widened, became a positive beam, once she saw Kate—and god, Kate didn't think she would ever get used to how happy this girl always was to see her. She didn't know how she deserved it (she didn't) but oh, she liked it, liked it so much. "Kate, your sling is gone! Does that mean you're all better now?" Alexis didn't wait for Kate's positive response before running over to Kate's side, grasping Kate's left hand in both of hers and hanging onto it. "So can you come with us? Please say you will!"

Um, what?

Kate blinked and tried to laugh off her confusion. Was she forgetting something? "Go with you? Where are you going?"

"Daddy!" Alexis exclaimed reproachfully, turning to fix her displeased gaze on her dad. "You said you'd ask Kate first thing!"

Kate dropped a wink at Castle even as she clicked her tongue in pretend disapproval. "I guess your dad forgot. He's just such a disappointment sometimes, isn't he?"

Alexis heaved a beleaguered sigh that seemed to have come up from the very soles of her feet and Kate had to bite back a smile. Even as sensible as she was, Alexis could be so dramatic sometimes, no doubt the influence of Martha. "Not all the time but yeah, he can be." She turned back to her dad again. "You always 'crastinate too much, Daddy," she scolded. "You need to stop doing that."

"Procrastinate," Castle corrected humbly, with a look of exaggerated contrition. "And you're right, pumpkin, I'm very sorry."

Kate turned back to Alexis. "Why don't you tell me what you wanted to ask instead, Alexis? I think you're more persuasive than your dad is anyway." She paused and then leaned down to add in a loud whisper, "It's because you're cuter than he is."

Alexis's expression immediately cleared as she gave a cackle of glee. "You hear that, Daddy? Kate says I'm cuter than you are!"

Castle huffed but then said, "Sadly, I am forced to agree. But," he pointed the wooden spoon he was using at Alexis, "I'll have you know that you get that cuteness from me, daughter of mine."

Alexis tilted her head to one side, mischief playing over her lips. "Nope," she disagreed, "Mommy says I look more like her and I think she's right."

Castle snorted at that but only asked rather loudly, "Weren't you going to ask Kate something?" Alexis only giggled before she sobered and turned back to face Kate, fixing Kate with her big, blue eyes. "Kate, will you be our guest at the Hamptons next weekend?" she asked solemnly and then her formality dissolved as she went on eagerly, "We always go to the Hamptons for Memorial Day weekend and I want you to come! We have a pool and the beach is right outside too and we swim and make s'mores and Daddy likes to make the marshmallows catch on fire but he can make the s'mores right if you ask him to and it's super fun! I really want you to come so please say you will!"

There was the Castle enthusiasm for sure. Kate felt a rush of affection swamp her heart for this little girl, so sweet and so effervescent, and damn, if she didn't find herself agreeing, "I'd love to go to the Hamptons with you."

She pulled herself up short and had to add, somewhat reluctantly, "I'll ask Captain Montgomery if I can take next weekend off." As one of the most rookie detectives, she was scheduled to be on call but then again, Kate had barely used any of her vacation time so she thought Montgomery would be amenable to her taking the long weekend.

"Oh goody!" Alexis's smile could have lit up the Chrysler Building as she threw her arms around Kate. "We're going to have such fun, Kate!"

Kate caught the girl in her arms and glanced at Castle rather helplessly to see his smile.

He seemed to read something in her eyes and he immediately added, "We usually leave right after Alexis finishes school on Friday to beat the holiday traffic. I know you usually meet up with your dad over the weekend but maybe you could see him on Monday for dinner instead? I don't want you to miss out on the time with your dad. But you work so hard and you deserve to relax and, well, we really do want you to come," he finished his little speech rather lamely.

Oh, right, her dad. Another thing to think about. She had met up with her dad every weekend without fail since he'd finished rehab and yes, she still felt a little niggle of worry every time she called him to schedule their weekly meals. Her dad was still sober, had stayed sober for more than five months now, and they'd fallen into a routine. But she still couldn't help the sick stab of fear that maybe this one change to their routine, skipping their weekend meeting, might nudge him off the path of sobriety, that leaving him for the holiday weekend would tip him over. He had relapsed before because of a holiday, July 4th one year, after he'd managed to stay sober for about six weeks but then that July 4th, she had needed to work and he'd been invited by a friend to a picnic to watch the fireworks and there had, of course, been beer and, well, that was that. She felt a familiar chill at the memory, the thought. And god, she hated this so much, hated that she couldn't just trust in her dad's sobriety, hated that everything she did seemed to come back somehow to her dad.

The fear of a relapse tugged at her, told her of course she couldn't leave her dad for the holiday, had to be there for him—but then she caught Castle's eyes, looked down at the bright head of Alexis. And it occurred to her that no, she didn't want to do this, didn't want to sacrifice her life—her happiness—even in this matter, for her dad. For the first time in years, she had something else in her life—someone in her life, two someones, who meant nearly as much to her as her dad did, in different ways. For so long, her dad had been her only other priority other than work but now, she had other priorities, other people to think about.

More than that, it occurred to her that she shouldn't have to sacrifice what she wanted for her dad, not like this. What was that mantra she had learned in therapy about addiction—didn't cause, can't control. It was ultimately her dad's responsibility to stay sober—she had not really done anything, could not do anything in this. She had needed to leave him, let him fall and decide to go to rehab on his own, and even now after all these months, she wasn't the one keeping him sober. He was the one keeping himself sober. Not her. She could not be the crutch to keep him sober because if she was, some time, sooner or later, he would relapse again. He had to be the one to take responsibility, just like he had once more taken over the responsibility of paying for his rent and other bills.

But even so, she would need to talk to her dad, tell him where she was going, and yes, she would meet him for dinner that Monday after returning from the Hamptons. That much she could do, had to do. She might not want to be her dad's crutch but she wasn't going to be the one to push him into relapsing either, could not desert him now.

"I'll talk to my dad when I see him tomorrow," she responded to Castle. "Thanks for inviting me. And I'll check with Montgomery and get back to you."

His smile was all the reward she needed.

* * *

Her dad was waiting for her at their usual diner when she arrived, lifting his hand in a small wave as he stood to meet her. And she was struck all over again at how much better he looked these days, so much like her old dad, the one she remembered from when she'd been growing up. He was somewhat grayer and there were lines etched into his face from grief and the passage of time but he had regained some weight to look more like his old self, his eyes were clear and no longer blood-shot, his skin no longer sallow. He stood straighter too, no longer slouched as if he'd been defeated by life.

All that made it easier for her to smile at him. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Katie-girl." His use of the old pet-name, one he hadn't used in years, made her throat tighten with emotion and made her glad of the chance to hide her expression by stepping into his embrace. And it occurred to her that maybe giving her dad the mug she had painted for him on Mother's Day with Alexis had allowed him to slip into using the old endearment again. She knew it had brought up some fond memories (on his part) of some of her childhood artistic endeavors. He had even teased her a little about a certain Father's Day card she had made for him out of construction paper when she was 7, which he had apparently taken to work with him and kept pinned to the bulletin board in his office for all to see. (She had been, belatedly, less than thrilled at this information since she was too familiar with her artistic abilities, or lack thereof, to believe that the card would have been anything to boast of.) But her dad teasing her again was a good thing.

Her dad released her and they sat down. "You're looking well, Katie."

"Thanks, Dad, so are you."

Her dad pretended to preen. "Yes, I've always thought I looked good in this shirt."

She laughed, feeling a little chip of the knot of tension that always resided in her sternum when she met with her dad dissolve. It was good to see her dad's humor again.

Her dad smiled. "So how was your week, Katie?"

Not for the first time, Kate was thankful that her injury had happened early enough in the week to give her time to recover before meeting with her dad. She really did not need to give her dad more reason to worry about her and her job. "It was pretty quiet. I spent most of it catching up on paperwork." Which was true, of course. She simply didn't mention that the reason for it was that she'd been on desk duty, which meant she wasn't allowed to do much besides paperwork. They had caught one case but Hassan had borrowed Detective Larsen to accompany him to the scene and on the takedown and Kate herself had been relegated to helping review the interview statements and doing the background work on the case, while listening to the interrogation from the box. None of which had sat well with her but at least, she was off desk duty now.

"Well, sometimes a quiet week is a good thing, allows you to catch up on other things." To his credit, her dad did not say that he was happier when she had quiet weeks spent on paperwork.

She managed a small smile. "Yeah and trying to get a handle on the amount of paperwork we're always required to do is a good thing. The stack of it on my desk is down to a manageable level, at least for now. How about you, Dad? How was your week?"

"Not too bad. I had a meeting with opposing counsel on one of the cases I'm working on to try to reach a settlement that was a little frustrating but we're supposed to meet again next week and I'm hoping having a few days to cool their heels will help."

She asked more about how her dad's work was going in general and it was encouraging to see that, even while her dad spoke with lawyerly caution in generalities, he looked and sounded fully engaged in his work again. Once more her smart, _sober_ father. (At least for now.)

"I'm glad it sounds like work is interesting and keeping you busy," she said once they reached an inevitable pause in the conversation when the server stopped by to take their orders. "Say, Dad, I wanted to ask you, what are your plans for this Memorial Day weekend?"

"I haven't planned anything specific yet. Charles invited me to spend Saturday with him and his family but I haven't agreed yet. Other than that, I thought I would just use the long weekend to catch up on reading, maybe watch some baseball, and I expect I'll need to get at least a little work done over the weekend anyway. Will you be working over the holiday?"

"No, that is, I asked Captain Montgomery if I could take the long weekend off."

"Oh, why? What are you planning to do?"

She was planning to do Castle. God, she had _not_ just thought that while with her own father. Kate tried not to flush or shift her weight or anything to give away how awkward she felt. She was not used to talking to her dad about a boyfriend and she'd never before had to tell her dad she was going out of town with a boyfriend. Then again, she hadn't had a boyfriend in her adult life with whom she would have gone out of town.

"I—well, Castle and Alexis invited me to go out to the Hamptons with them."

"Oh, I see. Well, that sounds like you should have a good time," her dad responded gamely. "I take it everything is going well with you and your Rick Castle."

Her Rick Castle.

This time, she really did flush and bit her lip but couldn't quite hide the small smile that escaped at the mention, the thought, of Castle. Going well—she supposed that was one way of putting the way she and Castle had thoroughly enjoyed her freedom from her sling the night before or less inappropriately, how accustomed she was becoming to drifting to sleep surrounded by the solid warmth of his body, his breath stirring the strands of her hair. How her own solitary bed was starting to feel cold and cavernously empty on the nights she spent in her own apartment.

"Yeah," was all she could say, quietly, but then mustered up a bright smile, trying to change the subject away from any discussion of her relationship. "But I don't want to miss seeing you next weekend either so I was thinking maybe we could meet for dinner on Monday instead? Castle said we'd be getting back to the city in the afternoon sometime."

"That sounds fine, Katie," her dad agreed easily. "I guess, if you're going to be out of town, I will join Charles and his family for their barbecue on Saturday."

A barbecue. Oh god, was there going to be alcohol at it? And how would her dad deal with it if there was? Not that she could ask. But she made a mental note to call her dad from the Hamptons on Saturday evening, just to see.

She forced a smile. "That should be fun."

Her dad met her eyes, sobering. "Charles knows about me, Katie, so don't worry," he assured her, obliquely.

She kept her smile from faltering by dint of will. "Of course, Dad. I'm not worried," she lied. Even as she died a little inside because of course she was worried, she couldn't not worry, because no matter her dad's reassurances, his promises that he was fine and wouldn't drink again, she couldn't believe him, couldn't trust him. Not in this, not yet. Maybe not ever—but she shoved that dismal thought away. It _wasn't_ true. She would learn to trust her dad again, she _would_. She just needed a little more time. Her dad just needed to stay sober a little longer.

At least, she appeared to be able to lie well enough to fool her dad as his expression eased. (Was that a good thing?) "I'll be fine, Katie-girl," he promised.

She clung to her smile the way a drowning man would cling to a life-saver. "I know, Dad. You're doing so well. And I remember you enjoyed meeting Charles's family before so it should be nice to see them again."

"Yes, I think so. Charles mentioned that his eldest son just got engaged so his fiancée will be there and it'll be her first time meeting some of the extended family. He thought it might make things a little easier if someone else, not a family member, was there too." He paused. "And what about you, Katie?"

"What about me?" she parroted.

Her dad paused, studying her with the expression she recognized as his 'lawyer during a cross-examination' look. She tried not to squirm or react in anyway. She was a cop, damn it, she should be immune to such tactics.

"Going out of town with Castle and his daughter, spending Mother's Day with his daughter," her dad began, his tone thoughtful. "That seems like you're getting serious."

Getting serious. Her heart thrashed around in her chest with a strange mix of longing and terror. This relationship with Castle was already the most serious one of her life—not that that was saying much—but that was the problem. She didn't have a good track record with relationships—well, no, she barely had any track record with relationships at all but what she had didn't bode well.

And Castle didn't exactly have a good track record with relationships himself, although at this point, she thought his divorce probably had more to do with Meredith than it did with Castle, judging from the way Meredith treated Alexis at least. His reputation was a little more of a sticking point but she trusted him.

Kate pulled her mind back to the point. Getting serious? She was serious about this; she wasn't sure how much more serious she could be than the stab of terror she felt whenever she even considered losing either Castle or Alexis, the desolation of not having them in her life.

But that was terrifying. Because she knew just how devastating loss could be, knew the way it could leave a life in ruins.

And her track record, her past, her issues—none of that gave her confidence in the future.

All she knew was what she wanted—Castle and Alexis in her life. Was that enough?

"I—we've only been together for a little more than a month," she finally faltered. It was true, even if it didn't really feel like it. She and Castle had been, well, sleeping together for about six weeks but as for when she'd started to care about Castle—and Alexis too—so much, it had been a lot longer than that. "I… like him." Liked him a lot (more than liked him?) but she could not bring herself to say more than that to her dad. "He makes me happy," she managed to add, not quite smoothly.

Talking to her dad about a boyfriend was just not comfortable.

Her dad gave her a small smile. "Well, then, that's all I really need to know."

Thankfully, the server returned at that moment with their food orders and Kate suspected both she and her dad were more than relieved to allow the interruption to put an end to this conversation about her personal life.

 _~To be continued...~_

A/N 2: To anyone who might recall that I once predicted that this story would end up being about 35 chapters long, I am apparently a very bad judge of how long it will take to get through plot so this story is going to end up being quite a bit longer than merely 35 chapters.

As always, thank you to all readers and reviewers.


	35. Chapter 35

Author's Note: On to the Hamptons, enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 35_

Kate had expected that she would need to join Castle and Alexis in the Hamptons on Saturday so she could work on Friday but Captain Montgomery was apparently so surprised and pleased that she was voluntarily requesting vacation time that he informed her she should feel free to work a half-day on Friday and leave at one. Assuming of course that a body didn't drop on Friday morning.

If she didn't know better, she might have wondered if Montgomery had been talking to Castle—but she knew Montgomery too well to think that he could be so easily persuaded into giving her time off if he didn't want to. And she trusted Castle not to do such a thing.

As it happened, she and Hassan caught a case on Wednesday but it turned out to be a relatively straightforward one and they solved it in short order—the victim had slept with a neighbor's wife and when the neighbor found out, he killed the victim. It was one of the garden variety sordid murders that Kate sometimes thought she hated the most because it was so pointless.

But solving the case so quickly meant that she only had some paperwork to finish up on Friday morning and was able to leave at lunchtime.

She stopped off at her apartment to change into casual clothes and grab the small bag she'd packed for the weekend before she took a cab to the loft. When Castle had said they would drive down to the Hamptons, it hadn't occurred to her to think that she'd never actually seen Castle drive himself anywhere nor had she ever wondered if he had a car.

But as she found out, Castle's building, in fact, had an underground garage for residents to use and Castle, loaded down with a bag and a suitcase and carrying Monkey Bunkey, escorted her and her bag to a Mercedes sedan. Because of course Castle would have a Mercedes.

After loading the trunk, Castle made a point of strapping Monkey Bunkey into one of the seat belts in the back, making Kate laugh.

Castle turned back to her. "Don't mock, Beckett. I admit that I actually forgot to pack Monkey Bunkey when we went to the Hamptons for Labor Day last year and Alexis was so upset we turned around and came back just to get him."

Kate suspected, knowing Castle (and Alexis), that Alexis had not been quite that upset but Castle had given in anyway.

She had never been to Alexis's school before and she couldn't help but notice that her presence at Castle's side while they waited at the gate drew some curious glances from the other women. Castle himself must be a familiar sight at the school gate but Castle being accompanied by a woman—her—was new and, if Kate was any judge of the quality of at least some of the looks she was receiving, not entirely welcome. Although she supposed it shouldn't surprise her. Castle was, after all, a very eligible bachelor; he had made the top 10 of the Ledger's list of Most Eligible Bachelors in New York the last two years and probably would again this year. Although she wasn't sure if the Ledger or people in general knew about their relationship.

Even as she wondered, though, Castle distracted her from her thoughts by slipping his arm around her and she glanced up at him with a small smile that he met with a reasonably chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'm really glad you're coming with us this weekend, Kate."

She smiled and allowed herself to briefly lean into him, even as she was mindful of having abruptly become the cynosure of a lot more eyes from the other women around. "Me too." What, he smelled good and he felt better and he was hers. At least for now.

The unwelcome voice of her fears made her straighten up but the movement and the moment was masked as there was a sudden eruption of noise as the school doors burst open on a flood of kids. Castle dropped his arm as they both turned to the school, watching for the familiar head of red hair. Kate didn't expect that Alexis, who actually liked school, would be one of the first ones out, the kids who escaped school as if it were a jail, but perhaps because of her excitement for this weekend trip, the girl was not long behind, animatedly talking to a small clump of other girls before she spotted them and promptly excused herself.

Alexis pelted over to them, throwing herself at Kate. "Hi, Kate!"

Castle pretended to pout, as he said in an overly loud voice, "Hello to you too, Alexis. How was your day? My day was fine, thank you."

Alexis giggled. "Don't be silly, Daddy, I know you're fine because I saw you just this morning but I haven't seen Kate in a couple days."

He huffed a little. "Fine, be that way."

Kate smiled down at Alexis, brushing a strand of red hair away from the girl's eyes. "Did you have a good day?"

"Uh huh but—" Alexis's expression collapsed into a scowl, "Mrs. Forrester said we're going to have a spelling quiz on Tuesday so I'll need to study."

"Oh, scheduling a quiz for the day after a long weekend is mean," Kate agreed, "How about if I help you study?"

Alexis's expression lit with so much gratitude it made Kate's chest feel tight. It was such a little thing, such a small gesture, to make Alexis look at her like this. "Would you really? That would be great!"

Knocked a little off balance with the rush of emotion, she glanced at Castle. In anything involving Alexis, he would be there to help, provide a distraction until she was at ease. (And in everything else too?)

Whether Castle read the appeal in her expression, she wasn't sure but he certainly provided a distraction. He dropped a quick wink at Kate before he mused aloud, "You know, Alexis, I can't remember if I packed Monkey Bunkey in your bag. Do you want to check?"

That got Alexis's attention. "Daddy, you didn't forget Monkey Bunkey again, did you?"

Castle pressed a button on the car key ring to open the trunk and Alexis flew to the car, peering in the trunk to re-emerge a moment later, scowling. "He's not in my bag!"

Castle faked shock and dismay and then suggested, "Hmm, maybe I packed him in the back seat."

Alexis duly checked the back seat. "Yes, he's here!" She turned to frown at Castle, running back to join them and nudging Castle. "Daddy, you scared me! That's not nice!" She turned to Kate. "Tell him, Kate!"

"Scaring Alexis is not nice," Kate parroted dutifully, sternly hiding her smile.

Castle put his arm around Alexis. "You're right, pumpkin. I'm sorry. But now that you know Monkey Bunkey is here, are you ready to leave?"

Alexis nodded, her expression clearing again. "Yes, let's go!"

Castle laughed. "All right, get in the car then."

They all piled into the car and Castle glanced back at Alexis. "Seatbelt fastened?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Time to hit the road."

Castle slipped on his sunglasses and shot Kate a grin as he reached out to squeeze her arm briefly before starting the car and slipping in a CD of what turned out to be children's songs.

Castle was, it turned out, a very good and surprisingly cautious driver—or not surprisingly, since Alexis was in the car.

And clearly, the idea of leaving right after Alexis was finished with school was a smart one because once they got out of the Manhattan traffic, they made fairly good time. The drive turned out to be entertaining enough as Alexis happily sang along to a lot of the children's songs like "I've been working on the railroad," or "The Green Grass Grows All Around," with Castle joining in at times, and after a while, Kate too consented to sing along, quietly at first, but then with more confidence (exchanging smiles with Castle).

But as Castle left the highway and started driving through surface streets lined with increasingly large houses punctuated by gaps in which the deep blue of the bay was visible, Kate's singing ceased as she fought the urge to gape. And possibly shrink into her seat.

She was a grown woman and a cop, a homicide detective, at that. She was not going to be intimidated by a display of wealth, even on a scale like this.

So she thought, bravely, until Castle turned into a driveway leading to…

Holy crap. Castle had said he had a house in the Hamptons and knowing what she did about the Hamptons (and guessing at Castle's wealth from the loft), she had assumed it was a large house but this—this was a freaking mansion.

Kate tried hard to hide her reaction as she got out of the car, thankful for her sunglasses as she swept her gaze over the front façade. Even with the luxury of the loft, it was easier in the City to forget the enormity of the gulf between her and Castle's economic status but out here, seeing his mansion in the Hamptons made the difference even more stark. God, what was she doing here? This could not possibly be her life, spending a long weekend with her boyfriend and his daughter in what was practically a vacation palace. She was a cop; she worked for a living and she was sure that even if she took her entire yearly salary over the next decade, she would not be able to afford so much as the bathroom in a place like this. She didn't belong here.

She suddenly understood how King Cophetua's beggar maid must have felt on walking into the palace—but that was the problem. Because she didn't believe in fairy tales and she certainly didn't believe that a fairy tale could happen in reality.

"Kate?"

Castle's voice had her turning to see that he'd come around the car to join her and she managed a small smile, going for teasing in order to hide her discomfiture. "So, you rich or something?"

He gave a small shrug, his lips curving in acknowledgment of the humor. "Well, I'm not James Patterson rich, but I do okay."

She suppressed a snort. He did okay. Sure, and Mount Everest was just a small hill.

He slipped his hand into hers. "Come on, I'll show you around."

The quiet moment—and her little freak-out—was abruptly curtailed by Alexis, who came rushing up to them both, Monkey Bunkey in one hand, as she grasped Kate's hand with the other. "Come on, Kate, I want to show you the pool!"

Castle laughed and they both fell into step, allowing Alexis to tug them forward. "All right, pumpkin, we'll give Kate the grand tour first and then we'll bring in our bags."

Strangely, Kate felt a little of her initial flare of nerves recede during the tour. Not because the house wasn't enormous—it really was, with seven bedrooms as Castle admitted off-hand, one on the ground floor that also featured a gorgeous, spacious kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a TV room, and an office/library—but because the whole atmosphere of the house was welcoming, warm, rather like the loft. It didn't look like a museum or a showcase for an ostentatious display of opulence with gold-plated monstrosities as furniture or something like that. It looked like a _home_. The furnishings looked comfortable, even if expensive, and the whole place looked lived-in. The pictures were mostly of Alexis and Castle with a few including Martha and Kate noted a few framed pieces of artwork on the walls that were unmistakably the work of Alexis.

It helped, too, that Alexis and Castle both spent much of the tour sharing memories of past summers—the time Castle accidentally fell into the pool, cell phone and all; Castle teaching Alexis to swim; Castle setting up a truly epic (his words) scavenger hunt all over the house; the time Castle did a cannonball into the pool and made a huge splash that soaked Martha, much to her displeasure.

Kate laughed at the stories and felt some of her insecurities dissolving. This was still Castle and no matter how rich he was, he was also _real_ , and so was Alexis. And by some strange alchemy, they just seemed to… fit somehow.

Up on the second floor, Alexis split off from them saying she needed to use the bathroom and Castle ushered her further down the hallway into a huge room, dominated by a large bed and a full wall of windows providing a sweeping view of the bay and a window seat at one corner, with a door leading into what was no doubt a luxurious en suite bathroom.

"And this is our room," he announced, making her heart stutter in her chest. _Our room_ , he'd said so easily, even though she'd never even been there before, as if… well, as if she wasn't just a guest…

"Wow, Castle, this is… spectacular."

He quirked a brow at her, returning to stand just in front of her. "Too much?"

She managed a little laugh. "It's just a little overwhelming, to see it all at once."

"I know the house is big, especially since it's usually just been me, Alexis, and my mother but—" he shrugged a little, "it was on the market when I was looking and Alexis really loved having both a pool and the beach. Plus at the time, it was just after I'd gotten the first big contract for Derrick Storm so I was still a little high on fortune."

She softened at this self-deprecation, reminded that Castle was still down-to-earth about having so much money and didn't seem to view money itself as a goal or of much value in and of itself, but only for how he could use it, mostly to make Alexis and other people he cared about happy.

"It's gorgeous," she told him sincerely.

He smiled and slid his arms around her waist, bringing her lightly against him. "The house is just a house. We're still us, okay?" he told her quietly before bending to kiss her. She opened her mouth for his kiss and let herself forget anything else except for the taste of him, the solid warmth of his body.

"Kate! Daddy!"

They broke apart sharply at the sound of Alexis's voice, just in time as the girl appeared in the open doorway. "Should we go get our bags now, Daddy?"

Castle made a small face for Kate's benefit but answered his daughter lightly. "Yeah, we can do that and then I'll get started on dinner. How does that sound, pumpkin?"

Alexis grinned. "Good because I'm starting to get hungry."

And so that was exactly what they did, trooping back outside to the car to get their bags before Alexis and Kate unpacked while Castle diverted into the kitchen to start working on dinner.

They were only there for a long weekend so it wasn't as if there was a lot of unpacking to do so it didn't take long. Kate took out her and Castle's toiletries, smiling a little to herself at the sight of their two toothbrushes in the stand on the counter in the (enormous) bathroom. It was such an oddly intimate task, to deal with another person's toiletries like this. She had brought a couple sundresses and she hung them up but otherwise didn't unpack.

She wandered back down to the kitchen, biting back a smirk when she caught Castle humming tunelessly to himself and sort of dancing along to his humming as he rummaged in the fridge. The man really did have a great ass. And he was adorable too.

"Can I help with anything?"

He started and spun to face her, laughing a little at his own surprise. "You scared me, Kate, sneaking up on me like that."

"Sorry," she said, not very apologetically, before repeating, "Can I help?"

He wasn't usually very willing to let her help but today, he surprised her. "Sure, can you prepare the salad? I was thinking of making spaghetti and garlic bread, since that should be quick and easy enough."

"Sounds good to me."

"Great. Alexis in her room?"

"Yes," she confirmed as she started working on the salad, slicing up a cucumber. They shared space in the kitchen easily, with her side-stepping him to get to the fridge and then checking him teasingly with her hip as she returned to her spot at the counter. It was such a domestic thing to do, the very ease with which they collaborated on these mundane kitchen tasks making her heart stutter a little because it was evidence that they just… worked somehow. In spite of their differences, they fit. It was something she'd never considered before—one could hardly call the act of preparing dinner the stuff of romantic fantasies—and yet it felt significant and reassuring. They might be in a setting and a house that was straight out of a modern day fairy tale but this was _real_.

"How come the fridge and the kitchen is so well-stocked?"

"Neighbors and friends of mine," he answered easily. "You'll probably meet them this weekend. I mentioned you to Rachel when I told her we were coming and she wanted to know all about you so I imagine they'll stop by to say hello. Anyway, Rachel acts as the housekeeper of sorts, dropping in to make sure things are ready for us and she always does some grocery shopping too, even though I tell her she really doesn't have to. Her husband, Chris, helps out too, covering the pool and bringing in the lawn chairs before a storm, things like that."

"That's nice of them."

"Yeah, they're great. Their daughter used to babysit for Alexis before she left for college."

It occurred to her, again, that Castle really was down-to-earth, fostering relationships with neighbors like this in a way that utterly belied his celebrity status.

They worked in companionable silence as she finished up the salad and afterwards, Castle caged her against the counter with his arms on either side of her as he gave her a mock leer. "We have some time before the garlic bread will be done. Wanna make out?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "How could any woman resist an invitation like that?" she teased.

"I know, right? I'm so charming," he smirked.

Silly man. Her laugh turned into a breathy sigh as he took the opportunity to lower his mouth to her neck, his lips unerringly finding a sensitive spot that sent a shiver of lust zipping down her spine. Her head fell back to allow him greater ease of access, an invitation which he accepted, and she arched into him. Oh god, she thought fuzzily. She'd wondered sometimes if the simmering attraction between them would fade, burn itself out after a few weeks, but it didn't seem likely. Not with the way she reacted to his look and his touch and his kiss.

Her hands had slid into his hair and she tugged on it to direct his lips to hers, as he kissed her, slow and deep and oh so good…

The beeping sound of a timer going off made them both start and break apart, their breathing not quite steady and Kate rather thankful for the solidity of the counter behind her as Castle blinked before moving to the oven to retrieve the garlic bread.

The interruption turned out to be timely as Castle had barely laid the garlic bread out on the counter to cool when they heard Alexis's voice asking, "Is dinner ready, Daddy?" just before the girl herself appeared in the doorway.

Kate mentally shook herself back into coherence as she smiled at the girl. "Not quite. Why don't you help me set the table, Alexis?"

"Sure, Kate," Alexis agreed cheerfully.

The two of them worked together to set the table, Kate opening the bottle of wine that Castle had set out on the counter and pouring two glasses while Alexis poured herself a glass of water. And shortly after they had finished with the place settings and putting the salad bowl and the garlic bread on the table, Castle joined them with the spaghetti and they sat down to eat.

Castle and Kate were a little more silent than usual, Kate trying hard not to stare at Castle, the dishevelment of his hair and his slightly swollen lips, but fortunately Alexis didn't seem to notice, prattling brightly about the plans for the weekend and the fun she expected to have.

After dinner, they all worked together to clear the table and then Castle suggested they go for a walk on the beach, to which Alexis happily assented.

The beach turned out to be down a small flight of wooden steps past the pool area. There was enough moonlight to illuminate just enough to allow them to make their way along the sand without the aid of a flashlight and they set off companionably, Alexis slipping one hand into Kate's and her other into her dad's as she walked in between them.

They didn't talk much, all seeming content to stroll mostly in silence, listening to the steady sound of the waves, the cry of the occasional bird.

Castle spoke up at one point, noting that they'd reached the end of his private beach, and then in another few minutes, Alexis pointed towards a house a little ways down, saying, "That's my friend Angie's house. She's 10 and she's super cool. Her older brother's in college and he has a motorcycle and a tattoo of a creepy skull face but her parents don't know about it 'cause she says they'd be mad if they knew."

Kate suppressed a smile at this ingenuous little introduction and Alexis went on, waving her hand at another house, just barely visible at the far end of the beach, one of the few houses along the beach that was completely unlit. "We don't know who lives in that house because they don't really go anywhere. I think they might be pirates and the reason we don't see them is because they're usually sailing on their ship to find treasure like in _Treasure Island_. Angie said she's seen a boat come up and then people getting on and off so—"

Alexis broke off as Castle had stopped short, making a soft noise.

Kate glanced at Castle in some surprise. "Castle, what's—"

She never finished her question as Castle interrupted her, blurting out, "You and Alexis can find your own way home from here, right? Great, thanks." He patted Alexis on the head, bent and swiped his lips quickly across Kate's mouth, and then he had turned and was running back towards his house before Kate could get a word out of her mouth.

Kate gaped after him and then turned to Alexis for some enlightenment to find the girl giggling quietly. "What's gotten into your dad now?"

"Daddy's going to write. He must have just had a Brilliant Idea," Alexis explained, her tone such that Kate could hear the capital letters. "I think he's been stuck on a scene the past couple days so maybe he just got unstuck."

"He's been stuck? Did he tell you that?" It occurred to Kate that she'd never actually seen Castle writing and for a writer, he didn't talk about it much. She had just assumed he must write during the day when Alexis was at school and on the nights when she wasn't at the loft.

Alexis shook her head. "No, Daddy doesn't talk to me about being stuck but I can tell because he's been pouting and talking to himself sometimes and he does that when his writing isn't going well."

Huh, she hadn't noticed any change in Castle's behavior but admittedly, she hadn't seen him the last couple days and today, he'd been distracted, she supposed, with the preparations to come out here.

"Oh, I see. Does he just run off like that a lot?" Surely he couldn't—he wouldn't leave Alexis alone.

"No, not when we're alone but he's gone off to write a couple times when Grams has been around and one time when Mommy was visiting. Usually, when he gets an idea, he can write down some of it in his notebook so he'll remember for later but this time, he knows you'll take care of me, Kate."

That sounded more like Castle. Kate smiled a little to herself, feeling a little flare of warmth in her chest at how matter-of-factly Alexis said that Kate would take care of her. Which was true but the trust inherent in the words—trust on both Castle's and Alexis's parts—meant something too.

She grasped Alexis's hand again. "Well, then, since your dad's deserted us, why don't we keep on going until we feel like turning back?"

Alexis's smile flashed. "Okay, let's do that."

And so they did, walking on for the distance of another few houses before they turned around and retraced their steps back to Castle's house.

Castle had, they could see, retreated into the office, the door mostly closed and the sound of typing coming through the crack in the door.

With Castle occupied, Kate sent Alexis off to bathe herself, once the girl had reassured Kate that she could take a bath herself, although Kate loitered in the hallway while the girl did so just in case. But true to Alexis's word, she emerged in a little while, bathed, her hair damp, and having changed into her pajamas.

Kate read to Alexis for a little while from the book Alexis handed to her, an adventure story involving talking mice and other small animals who lived in a place called Redwall Abbey, and then tucked the girl into bed, Monkey Bunkey beside her. Alexis smiled and threw her arms around Kate in a hug. "Thank you for reading to me. I'm really glad you're here with us."

Kate smiled and returned the girl's hug, dropping an impulsive kiss to her red hair. "I'm glad to be here too, sweet pea."

Alexis wriggled back down into bed, giving a little yawn. "Good night, Kate."

Kate smoothed a hand down Alexis's hair. "Good night, Alexis, sleep well."

She turned the light off but then found herself lingering at the door, oddly reluctant to leave, as she listened to the girl's breathing become slow and steady, punctuated by the occasional little puff of breath. When had she turned into this person, who hung over a child to watch them fall asleep? Probably about the same time she'd started to love this girl so much, a voice in her head responded—and god, it was true. She did love Alexis.

She loved Alexis and she… was not ready to put a word on how she felt about Castle. Wasn't sure there was a word that could really express it anyway, the ever-present physical need for him, the way she thought about him so much, the way the sight of his smile made her insides flip—the way the mere idea of losing him, losing their relationship, made her feel cold with terror.

She retreated back downstairs and crept over to the door of the office, not quite able to resist.

She didn't want to disturb him but she'd never actually seen him writing before and she was curious—both because he was her boyfriend and she'd never seen him at work before but also because a little fangirl corner of her was squealing that she could watch Richard Castle writing words that she would no doubt read one day, words that would intrigue her, inspire her, move her.

As it happened, she guessed that her effort in trying to be stealthy was probably unnecessary because Castle looked entirely engrossed, a faint frown of concentration on his face as he typed, and then paused to read over what he'd written, followed by a mutter and a few stabs of his finger as he deleted something, and then his fingers were off and flying over the keyboard again. It was a little mesmerizing, honestly, and a little… okay, maybe more than a little… hot to see him like this, not because of his looks but because of the sheer single-minded intensity of his focus. It made her remember the way he focused on her when he touched her, the sensual focus in his expression when he slid down and used his mouth—and holy shit, she needed to stop thinking about this. Now.

She was already feeling flushed and over-heated at the mental image and from the look on Castle's face, he was miles away right now and while she was reasonably sure she could distract him from his writing, she didn't want to do that. She wanted him to be able to write and she refused to turn into one of those clingy, needy girlfriends who wanted their boyfriends to pay attention to them all the time.

She forced herself away from the office and busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning the last of the dishes and the pots and pans from dinner. When she was done, she settled in the living room, finding that it had a couple bookshelves full of books, picked out a mystery set in early turn of the century New York by a writer named Victoria Thompson and found herself quickly engrossed with the portrayal of old New York and the still-fledgling, corrupt NYPD.

Later, with the sound of typing still audible and attesting to Castle's continuing concentration, she made her way up to Castle's bedroom—their bedroom?—alone and prepared for bed. She made a wry face at herself as she undressed. When she'd changed out of her work clothes at her apartment earlier, she had slipped on a deep burgundy silk and lace babydoll, anticipating Castle's reaction when she undressed—except Castle was not around to react. Well, she might as well give him a reason to wake her up when he eventually joined her.

She drifted to sleep wondering how much longer Castle would be in his fog of inspiration and then found herself waking up some time later at the shift of the mattress as Castle's warm body joined her under the covers.

She turned to face him, trying to blink away her lingering drowsiness. "Done writing?" she mumbled, her voice husky with sleep.

"Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you and I'm sorry I deserted you guys earlier."

"'s okay. Alexis explained and we were fine."

"Mm." His arm slid over her waist, his hand finding the silk of her babydoll, and he paused before his touch became more purposeful, sweeping in an exploratory caress over her side. "Kate…" His voice had changed, lowered into the husky, sexy tone that feathered across her nerve endings. "Now I'm feeling inspired in a whole different way."

The line had her snorting a laugh that was swallowed by his mouth as he lowered his lips to hers, one of his thighs sliding between her legs, as his hands began a slow, delicious exploration of the silk and lace.

There was no more talking for a long while and afterwards, Kate felt a wave of sleepiness tugging her into unconsciousness and she succumbed to it, not aware of mumbling, "I hope we're always like this," into his shoulder as she nestled closer into him.

She only had a vague wispy memory of Castle brushing a kiss to her cheek and breathing, "Always," into her ear and the word slid into her mind and mingled with her dreams.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.


	36. Chapter 36

Author's Note: I really like this chapter so I hope you all enjoy reading it!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 36_

Kate blinked awake, disoriented at first by the unfamiliar surroundings before full consciousness returned and she remembered where she was. Right, the Hamptons. With Castle.

He was still sleeping soundly, she could see, unsurprisingly since by the time he came to bed, it must have been well after midnight. She craned her head a little to catch sight of the clock on the nightstand and wrinkled her nose as she saw that it was just after 6:30, which was ridiculously early to be waking up when she didn't have to work but by now, waking up early was an ingrained habit.

She doubted Castle would stir any time soon and so she relaxed, shifting a little on the pillow to give herself a better view of him, indulging in a wish she would probably feel a little sheepish about later but didn't resist then. She hadn't actually had the chance to watch Castle sleep often because, contrary to what his reputation might indicate, he was generally an early riser. And she had a better view than usual now because the sun seemed brighter out here in the Hamptons or the curtains here were less effective at blocking the light than the ones at the loft.

She might not have admitted it to anyone else and she'd never felt this urge to moon over a sleeping boyfriend before but watching Castle sleep seemed different. He was cute when he was asleep, his hair sticking up every which way, and looking almost ridiculously boyish in spite of the not-at-all-boyish stubble over his jaw. As she watched, he stirred, releasing a little huffing breath, not quite a sigh, and then snuffling a little but only slept on. God, he was adorable.

And she was in love with him. This had to be love. She'd never felt it before, everything else had just been a pale imitation, but now, she knew it was true, couldn't avoid the truth of it any longer. She was in love with him. Warmth bubbled up inside her, all she felt for him fizzing up until she felt rather like champagne in a bottle that had been shaken.

It made her feel oddly restless, not because she wanted to get away from him but because she felt too much, had to do something to let it out, but she didn't want to wake him either. So she slowly wriggled out from under his encircling arm, smiling to herself as her foot almost got caught on the babydoll she'd been wearing up until Castle divested her of it and tossed it to the floor. She quietly rummaged around in her bag to retrieve shorts and a t-shirt before retreating into the bathroom.

She left Castle asleep as she padded quietly out of the room, pausing at Alexis's door to listen for a second to the reassuring steady sound of her breathing, before going downstairs. With all the windows, the house was almost blindingly bright and Kate had to squint a little as her eyes adjusted before she looked outside, at the deep blue of the water and the lighter blue of the sky arching overhead with just a few scattered clouds. It was already shaping up to be a picture-perfect day and she was out here in this paradise with an entire weekend with two of her favorite people in the world stretching before her. She smiled.

She remembered her teenage self teasing her mom about having a crush on Richard Castle. Now, the joke was on her because she was actually in love with Richard Castle. Her mom was going to get such a kick out of that.

Kate's smile fractured on a little gasp as the thought cut straight through her moment of contentment. Oh. Oh god, for just a moment, she'd… forgotten or something, somehow, automatically thought of her mom's reaction as if her mom was still around. She couldn't believe she'd done that—except it was still, even now, so hard to believe sometimes that her mom was gone. She remembered her mom so well, thought about her so often, and her mom had been so vivid in life. And yet paradoxically, sometimes it felt as if her mom had been gone for decades, ages, and she'd had this tight ache of missing her mom for her entire life.

She reached up automatically to grasp her mom's ring and let the cool feel of the metal ground her a little, allow her to think of her mom with a little more calm. Because her mom would have been so pleased over this, all of this—not just the specific fact that Kate was dating Richard Castle but more generally, that Kate was in a relationship with a good man who cared about her, that Kate was happy. Yes, her mom would have been happy about this.

The thought allowed her to smile, albeit a little wistfully, again. Her eyes fell on a framed picture of Castle giving a piggyback ride to Alexis and her smile widened. They were sleeping soundly upstairs and she had a full weekend to spend with them.

It was still early, she realized when she glanced at a clock on the wall, as she ventured into the kitchen and studied the ridiculously expensive and complicated-looking coffee maker for a minute before she made a guess, mostly based on Castle's coffee maker at the loft, and smiled as the machine started to work. She took her first cup of coffee back into the living room and read for a little while, finishing the book she'd started yesterday. By then, it was almost 8:30 as she returned to the kitchen, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

That done, she rummaged in the fridge, pulling out eggs, some fresh fruit, and a package of bacon. Castle had cooked for her so much, it seemed the least she could do to finally cook for him. It occurred to her as she fried the bacon that she should try to cook more often, for herself as well as for Castle and Alexis. She was normally so busy and too tired when she came home after work so she tended to forget that she rather enjoyed cooking when she had the time to do it.

The coffee was done and she had finished frying up the bacon and was making scrambled eggs when Castle appeared downstairs, dressed in swim trunks and—she had to snicker—a Batman t-shirt.

"I just woke up and literally smelled the coffee. Oh and bacon!" He broke off a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth before sliding his arms around her waist. "This is like every man's fantasy, waking up to a good breakfast cooked by a beautiful woman."

She snorted. "Really, that's what does it for you? How very antediluvian of you."

"You are so hot," he blurted out fervently.

She laughed, softening to curve her arms around his neck. "Only you would find vocabulary words to be sexy."

"I really do."

She went up on her toes and deliberately husked into his ear, "sesquipedelian."

He jerked a little in surprise and then he started to laugh, burying his face in her shoulder as he laughed so hard he made her rock back and forth. She laughed too as she held on, ridiculously thrilled at managing to make him laugh like this. She loved his laugh.

He lifted his head, his eyes bright, his face flushed from laughter. "You are so pulchritudinous that when I'm with you, I'm in a constant state of concupiscence."

She giggled. Such a ridiculous compliment. "You are such a logophile," she returned.

"What else would you expect from a scrivener?"

This silly exchange of vocabulary ended with the sound of footsteps that gave them time to move apart before Alexis appeared in the doorway, already wearing a swimsuit along with shorts. "Morning, Daddy, Kate. Why was Daddy laughing so hard?"

Kate looked at Castle and he looked at her before he finally answered, "Morning, pumpkin. Kate just said something funny, that's all. Now, are you ready for breakfast? Kate made scrambled eggs and bacon."

Fortunately, the mention of food distracted Alexis and she smiled. "Yes, I'm hungry and we need to eat so we can go to the beach!"

Castle laughed. "Of course, nice priorities, my child. Orange juice to drink?"

"Yes, please, Daddy."

They sat down to a merry breakfast in which Castle praised her scrambled eggs and explained that thanks to Martha's cooking abilities, or lack thereof, he hadn't realized until he went to college that scrambled eggs weren't supposed to be tasteless or have the consistency of rubber. Kate laughed and Alexis scolded him for being mean and said she would tell Grams he said that, making Castle pout about Alexis's so-called disloyalty. All in all, it was the sort of meal with lots of laughter that seemed like it came straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting and sometimes made Kate wonder just how she had gotten to be so lucky that this sort of meal, this kind of laughter, could be a regular part of her life. Now. (Again.)

Beckett family meals had used to be similar, just as filled with affectionate teasing and laughter—but then her mom had died and their family had fallen apart. She wasn't given a chance to dwell on the melancholy reminder, though, because Alexis called on her to take Alexis's side in her current discussion with Castle over whether whip cream alone was a perfectly decent breakfast (Castle's argument, made with a grin that called his sincerity into question) or whether breakfast should include healthy items.

After breakfast, Castle insisted that he (and Alexis) could clean up since Kate had cooked and shooed her upstairs to change into her swimsuit so they could head to the beach immediately afterwards.

Kate had a skimpy bikini but she had deliberately not brought it with her (this time) but packed only a more modest one-piece, mindful of Alexis's presence. No need to actively torture Castle after all. She slipped her shorts back on over her swimsuit before returning downstairs. Even with the relatively modest swimsuit, the mere fact of its being a swimsuit still had Castle's eyes flaring when he saw her and he had to blink before he could respond to Alexis's request to help her with sunblock.

Castle and Alexis, she quickly realized, had the whole going-to-the-beach thing practically down to a science with Alexis in charge of grabbing beach towels for all of them while Castle readied water bottles and retrieved a large bag full of beach toys. Castle also was very careful about ensuring that they were both covered in sunblock (and volunteered to help Kate with her sunblock, purely for her own protection, of course, he said with waggling eyebrows) and Kate smirked at him before assuring him she could handle it. (Allowing Castle to rub sunblock over her could only lead to them getting… distracted in ways they could not be distracted when Alexis was around.)

That taken care of, Alexis picked up the bag of beach toys and with her other hand, eagerly grabbed Kate's hand. "Come on, Kate, let's go!"

Kate laughingly let Alexis pull her down to the beach while Castle followed more sedately since he was loaded down with the water bottles and the bag of towels.

Alexis chatted brightly on the way down to the beach, enthusing over the fun they were going to have, only marginally checked by Castle calling, "Remember, no swimming until an hour later."

Kate smiled to herself at this reminder of how responsible Castle was, in spite of his joking, while Alexis only went on, "That's okay because I want to build a sand us first!"

"A sand us? What's a sand us?"

The girl giggled. "A sand _castle_ , of course. Get it?"

Kate laughed, feeling a little silly. Trust Castle's daughter to get such a kick out of the pun. "Oh right, of course."

"We always build sand us-es when we come here," Alexis went on. "Sometimes we have competitions to see who can make the best one. I won the last time!"

"Oh you did?"

"Uh huh. Daddy got too excited so he knocked some of his castle over as he was running around."

Kate snickered. Yeah, that sounded like Castle. "Silly Daddy."

"Yeah, Daddy is silly."

"So do you want to have a competition again because I bet you and I could beat your dad easily?"

Alexis thought about it. "No, I think we can all just work together this time. We can be nice."

"Very magnanimous of you," Kate approved.

"What's magnaninous mean?"

"Magnanimous," Kate sounded the word out slowly. "It means you're a generous winner and you don't make the person who lost feel bad by making fun of them or anything."

"Magnanimous," Alexis repeated carefully. "Did I say that right?"

She beamed at Kate's affirmance before looking around and saying, "I think here's a good spot to build a sand us. What do you think, Kate?"

Kate agreed and they got started on the serious business of building a sand castle—and it really was a serious business to Alexis. They had all sorts of implements for it, including not just regular plastic buckets but buckets with a special turret shape on the bottom and different sizes of shovels and other pieces to act as molds for the sand. Alexis, being the planner that she was, insisted on trying to sketch out the outline of the castle first, before directing both Kate and Castle on how to help her as she created her vision. Kate and Castle exchanged smiles but dutifully obeyed the pint-sized task-master and really, it wasn't a hardship to do so because Alexis was good at making things fun too.

The resultant sand castle was quite a work of art and Kate laughingly insisted that Alexis write her name under it to claim it as hers while they duly admired it.

Castle then made a show of collapsing to the sand in histrionic exhaustion, claiming that Alexis had worn him out, slavedriver that she was (his words).

Alexis dumped a bucketful of sand on top of Castle's stomach. "Don't move, Daddy," she instructed him gleefully as he made a face. "I'm going to make another sand castle out of you now! Come and help me, Kate."

Between the two of them, they rapidly made a sand cocoon out of Castle, covering him with sand from chest down, while he made faces at them and pretended to gripe but also didn't move a muscle to disturb the sand either.

When he was thoroughly cocooned, Alexis cackled with hilarity. "Look, it's another sand Castle, a Castle in the sand!"

Kate laughed. Definitely Castle's daughter, to be getting such fun out of the silly play on words.

Castle directed a mock baleful look at his daughter and then emitted a growl, threatening, "The sand monster's coming to get you!" With a little grunt of exertion, he heaved himself out of the cocoon of sand and pushed himself to his feet, making a deliberately futile swipe at Alexis after he was standing.

Alexis danced backwards out of his reach with a shriek of laughter. "No, not the sand monster!"

Castle growled again and lumbered after Alexis, making the occasional failed swipes at the girl while Alexis giggled and dodged him.

Kate had to laugh but for just a moment, felt rather… excluded from this father-daughter game. She wasn't sure she even knew how to do this sort of thing anymore, playing make-believe, pretending to escape from a sand monster. She hadn't been the most imaginatively-inclined child to begin with and then the last of her childhood had died along with her mom. And now, she dealt with gritty reality every day; that was her life now. This sort of game just wasn't like her…

"Save me, Kate!" Alexis darted behind Kate while Castle made a show of clumsily changing direction to plod towards the two of them, growling again as he did so.

Afterwards, Kate had no idea what came over her. Maybe it was simply that their laughter and Castle's sense of his inner (or not-so-inner) child were contagious or maybe it was some long-forgotten corner of her own inner child finally emerging but whatever it was, Kate found herself joining in, waiting until Castle was almost on them before grabbing Alexis's hand and skipping backwards. "Catch us if you can, sand monster!" she taunted.

Castle's eyes flashed with a quick grin of delight before he quickly had it morph into a mock scowl and growled again. "The sand monster's gonna get you!"

Alexis giggled. "Nuh uh! No, you won't, sand monster!"

Kate and Alexis easily tag-teamed to taunt Castle-the-sand-monster, allowing him to get just within arm's reach of them before they split apart so he would flail and try to catch both of them only to pretend to lose his balance and stumble and so on. Kate wasn't sure how long this pursuit lasted but she was breathless with laughter and exertion while Alexis's face was so flushed she looked pink all over thanks to her red hair. And then Castle exerted himself for real and managed to grab first Alexis, making her shriek as he caught her up, and then reached out with his other hand to pull Kate in, tugging so they all lost their balance and fell onto the sand in a breathless, laughing heap.

Kate had an arm wrapped around Alexis, who was sprawled partially on top of her as the girl giggled and tried to catch her breath, and her other hand was held by Castle as their eyes met and held even as they laughed. And in that moment of shared laughter, Kate thought—realized—they really were a family now. These people who took care of her and made her happy, these people who, by some miracle, had found her, wanted her. This man and his daughter were her family now, the family she chose. Hers to care for and protect and nurture. Hers to love.

They were a family. And that was enough, was everything she'd ever wanted.

* * *

Castle was exhausted.

It had been a great day, a day so close to perfect it made him wonder what could possibly be left for heaven, except for the minor detail that he was sure he'd gotten sunburnt in some spots, the skin of his shoulders and the bridge of his nose feeling tight and sensitive. Never mind, a little sunburn was nothing, a small price to pay.

But lord, he was tired, almost as ready as Alexis was to crawl into bed and sleep. They had spent the morning at the beach and then returned to the house for a lunch of sandwiches. After lunch, they had played a game of Operation to let the food settle before spending the rest of the afternoon in the pool, swimming and splashing each other. Kate had been unsurprisingly sneaky, managing to swim under water to creep up behind him and make him lose his balance by grabbing one leg out from under him, much to Alexis's hilarity.

After they had all thoroughly tired themselves out in the water, they'd rested for a while before having dinner and then making s'mores out in the yard. It was while they were eating s'mores that Alexis had started to really droop, leaning into Kate's side and yawning occasionally before he'd chivvied Alexis inside and sent her to bed.

He remembered the pretty picture they had made, these two people he loved the most, his daughter leaning against his girlfriend so trustingly, and something about the sight had made his chest feel tight. It was still a little… odd, new, for him to see Alexis leaning against anyone else, for Alexis to turn to anyone else besides him, but today, more than half the time, Alexis had gravitated to Kate, looked towards Kate. He wasn't quite used to it but it was also… good, for lack of a better word.

He would never have said that having his daughter was a burden and yet, he was finding that somehow, this new dynamic of having Kate around as well, an easy addition to their small family, changed things, made things… easier. It was different to have another adult around to look after Alexis, take care of her. It was something he'd never experienced before and he would have said he was fine with that; he adored Alexis and had lucked out with her and Alexis had always been the best part of his life. Which was all absolutely true and yet so far, this weekend was… better.

Yesterday evening when something about Alexis's blithe prattle had triggered something in his brain and he'd abruptly known exactly how to write the climactic scene he'd been struggling with, the words spilling out into his brain, he'd been able to run off right then and just dive into writing. He hadn't even stopped to think. For the first time in Alexis's life, he hadn't needed to try to hold back the flood of words for a more convenient time, had not needed to stop, make arrangements for Alexis, and wait. He had just written, written in a fog of complete absorption in the world he was creating, the scene playing out in his mind making its way onto the page.

And that was because of Kate, because Kate had been there and he trusted Kate with Alexis the way he trusted no one else.

No, Alexis was not a burden but for the first time, he was realizing how much… better… things could be with someone else, another adult, there to, well, share the responsibility. Always before, he'd been alone and known he was alone. When it came to Alexis, the ultimate responsibility for her welfare was always his and his alone. Oh, he trusted his mother and he knew his mother would never knowingly harm Alexis, but his mother wasn't always around, had her own life, and she had a much more laissez-faire attitude towards parenting than he did, probably out of necessity, from having been a single working mother herself and he had (basically) turned out fine. He didn't blame his mother or begrudge his childhood but it didn't mean he was comfortable being such a parent himself.

And as for Meredith, well, the less said the better.

He was used to being alone when it came to parenting, had never minded it either. But now, he was starting to realize fully that he wasn't alone anymore, didn't have to be alone. Because Kate was there and he knew he could trust Kate to look after Alexis.

Maybe that was what made this relationship so different from every other relationship he'd been in. He'd been starting to think, to wonder, if maybe—rather like his mother—he was destined to go through life without a real love that would last, someone who was his and he could be hers. And he'd told himself he could be fine with that. After all, he had his mother and Alexis and they were enough for him.

But then he'd run into Kate—or she had run into him, whichever. And even though he hadn't been looking for love—after all, he'd been dating Gina at the time—somehow, it seemed as if the love he hadn't really expected had found him. He knew it was too early to be thinking like this but he was really starting to believe that Kate was it for him. Not only because he loved her—although he definitely did—but because she… fit. Because Alexis adored her and he knew he could trust Kate with Alexis.

Funny, that Alexis might have grown to trust and love Kate even before he did. He'd never let any girlfriend get so close to Alexis before, had always waited, kept any previous girlfriends at something of a distance, to protect Alexis. With Kate, things had almost happened in reverse. He didn't doubt he would have fallen in love with Kate anyway, even if he'd gotten to know her through some other circumstances, if Alexis hadn't been there to get to know and trust Kate too. (At this point, he couldn't imagine not falling in love with Kate.) But as it was, it seemed as if watching Kate with Alexis had him falling deeper in love every day, every minute, even.

Alexis emerged from the bathroom, her nightly ablutions completed, distracting him from his thoughts. She looked a little subdued, quiet, from tiredness, he guessed, and he rested a gently caressing hand on her hair as he accompanied her into her bedroom and watched her get into bed.

Somewhat to his surprise, she didn't immediately lie down but sat up in bed, watching him until he perched on the edge of her bed. Clearly, in spite of her tiredness, she wasn't quite willing to go to sleep just yet.

He ran a hand down her bright hair. "You should sleep, baby bird."

She nodded and then let out a breath that he recognized as her making up her mind and waited, his features rearranged into appropriate solemnity. Whatever it was about, these little talks right before bedtime were almost always serious. And for all her sense of fun, Alexis was still a serious child. "I love Mommy, I really do," she began.

Meredith. He blinked and tried not to frown. Alexis mentioning Meredith out of the blue like this could not be a good sign. And he sensed a 'but' coming even with her declaration. "I know you do, pumpkin," he assured her gently. "And I'm glad you do."

"I do love Mommy but she's not _here_ , she never seems to be here."

He hid a wince, the words hitting him in the chest like a stab. Because Meredith's absentee parenting was on him, he knew that. He was the one who'd trusted Meredith—as flighty as she was in everything (not that he'd fully realized just how flighty at the time)—when she said she had birth control covered. He was the one who had made Meredith Alexis's mother, even if it hadn't been exactly intentional on his part.

And he reminded himself, not for the first time, that he was defending Meredith for Alexis's sake, not for Meredith's own. If it had been for Meredith alone, he likely wouldn't have done any such thing but for Alexis…

"Sweetheart, I know your mom isn't very good at showing it but she does love you, I don't want you to doubt that." It wasn't untrue. Meredith did love Alexis, at least as much as Meredith could love anyone aside from her own self.

It wasn't the same way he loved but he and Meredith were very different people.

Alexis didn't look reassured or happy. It occurred to him that she looked very small and very young, sitting in her bed, clutching Monkey Bunkey to her side as she fidgeted with the bed covers.

But then she looked up at him, met his eyes, her own big and solemn. "I think I love Kate more than I love Mommy because Kate listens to me and spends time with me and she helped me study for my spelling quiz. Is that bad of me, Daddy, to love Kate more than I love Mommy?"

Oh god. If it was possible for a heart to swell with emotion even as it broke, Castle could have sworn that his own heart did just that. It wasn't like it was a surprise to hear that Alexis loved Kate but the reasons for it made his heart hurt. They were such simple things—and yet not simple at all because they were things Meredith had never really done.

He cupped Alexis's cheek with his hand, holding her gaze. "No, that's not bad. As long as they're good people, you can love whoever you want, however much you want to, and that's never a bad thing."

A small smile trembled on her lips. "Kate's a good person."

"Yes, she is," he agreed. "And sweetie, it doesn't take anything away from Mommy that you love Kate too. That's the great thing about love. Love isn't like a candy bar; just because you give a big piece of it to Kate doesn't mean that there's a smaller piece to give to Mommy. Just like it doesn't mean that I love you any less because I also love Grams." He paused and deliberately gave Alexis a wink. "But don't tell Grams I said so."

Alexis gave a little giggle, as he'd wanted. "Silly Daddy."

He smiled and brushed his knuckle against her chin. "You can love as many people as you want and I'm glad you love Kate. All right?"

She nodded and threw herself forward to hug him. "Thank you, Daddy."

He caught her against him and pressed his lips to her hair. "You're welcome, pumpkin."

"I'm really glad you're dating Kate because she makes you happy too, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she does," he confirmed quietly. "Now, it's time to sleep."

"Yes, Daddy."

Alexis obediently wriggled down into her bed, yawning a little as he tucked the covers in around her. "Sweet dreams, Alexis."

"G'night, Daddy."

He bent and kissed Alexis's forehead before standing up, wondering just how much longer Alexis would allow him this bedtime ritual of tucking her into bed. As it was, he suspected she was mostly humoring him these days because his sweet daughter knew that he loved her bedtime ritual and didn't want her growing up so much that she no longer wanted him to tuck her in every night.

But she was still his little girl. His little girl, who had looked so torn because she loved Kate more than her own mother. He sighed to himself as he closed Alexis's door carefully behind him. He could really learn to hate Meredith, he thought not for the first time, for how careless she was with Alexis's feelings. He tried his best to make up for Alexis's lack of a real mother but he could only do so much and he was all too aware that Alexis was rapidly nearing the age when she would need more womanly guidance that he simply could not give. (He tried not to shudder at the thought.)

But now there was Kate. Wonderful, amazing Kate. He smiled, his mood lifting at the thought of her. And Kate was waiting for him downstairs.

She had moved inside, was in the kitchen when he came downstairs, and turned to smile at him. "I thought we could finish off the bottle of wine we opened earlier at dinner," she suggested, lifting a wine glass in offering.

"That sounds great. You cold or are you okay staying outside a little longer?"

She gave him a look from beneath her lashes. "Oh, I think you'll be able to keep me warm enough."

He grinned, delighted. She was flirting with him and he absolutely loved it, loved these glimpses of flirtatious Kate. "Glad to be of service. Consider me your own personal space heater."

"You're even interactive."

"I try," he pretended to preen and she laughed.

"Why doesn't the space heater get himself set up outside and I'll be out in a minute with the wine?"

He obeyed, settling on one of the lounge chairs by the fire pit, before Kate joined him, setting their wine glasses on the table before she nudged him to scoot over on the lounger so she could align her lithe curves against his body.

He shifted, curving his arm around her shoulder as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. His silly, susceptible heart danced around in his chest at how well they fit together. Not just physically either.

They didn't talk much as they sipped their wine and watched the flickering flames but conversation seemed superfluous, the silence comfortable, easy. Something else he liked about Kate. For all that she was possibly the most fascinating person he'd ever met, always keeping him on his toes and never boring, she was also calming too. He hadn't really realized it until lately but he liked being quiet with Kate as much as he liked talking to her. He had an over-active brain, found it hard to silence his thoughts sometimes, but along with Alexis, being with Kate was calming. She quieted the noise in his brain. He felt peace settling over him like a blanket, this sense that when he was with her, he was exactly where he belonged.

His daughter loved Kate. And so did he.

He remembered Kate's sleepy murmur last night, that she hoped they were like this always. And the knowledge sank into him with bone-deep certainty: she might not be ready to say the words but she loved him too.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, and added this fic to their favorites.


	37. Chapter 37

Author's Note: A very long chapter and another one I think came out well (if I do say so myself). I hope you all enjoy it.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 37_

Castle wasn't sure what made him wake up but wake up he did, reaching out automatically with one arm to find Kate, only for his hand to encounter nothing but bare sheets.

He blinked his eyes open, turning his head to confirm that, yes, his bed was empty except for him and Kate had apparently been absent for long enough that the sheets no longer retained any of her warmth. The light wasn't on in the en suite either so she wasn't in the bathroom. Hmm.

Curiosity and some burgeoning concern had him pushing himself upright in bed, putting on boxers and shrugging into his robe before he left his room to look for her. It was the middle of the night after all.

He padded his way downstairs and then stopped, changing direction, as he caught a glimpse of her, sitting in the living room. His steps paused as he neared, his heart dropping down into the soles of his feet. She was sitting on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head turned to look out over the water. There was something inexpressibly… sad, bleak, in her still form, making his heart clench, and then as he watched, she lifted one hand and swiped at her cheek in a tell-tale gesture. She was crying.

Oh god. He'd thought they'd had such a good day, thought she was happy, but maybe he'd been misreading it all, wishful thinking taking the place of real observation. Maybe she'd realized she could do better than be with a divorced single father almost ten years older than her and who had a somewhat tarnished reputation as a playboy… Or maybe—oh god—she'd said she was going to call her dad while he was putting Alexis to bed earlier that night. Had something happened to her dad? God forbid, had her dad… relapsed?

Wait, no, some rational thought surfaced, breaking through his panic. Kate had been the one to suggest they have more wine after all and somehow, he couldn't imagine her suggesting such a thing if her dad had just relapsed into alcoholism. And she'd been… contented, a little quiet but no more so than usual (since Kate was never a chatterbox), and smiling at him with so much warmth in her eyes, he'd felt more warmed by her gaze than he had the fire.

It couldn't be the worst case scenarios that his brain had leaped to but common sense said that it wasn't a good thing that his girlfriend had left his bed in the middle of the night to cry alone.

Would she even want him around? She had, after all, left his room which indicated she wanted to be alone. And he already knew that Kate was independent.

But on the other hand, there was no way he could leave her alone when he knew she was hurting.

He stepped closer. "Kate?" he ventured carefully.

Her hand quickly lifted to swipe at her cheeks again and his heart twisted all over again at the gesture, the way she turned her head to give him a faint, watery smile. She didn't want him to see her crying. Oh god.

"I didn't want to disturb you," was what she said, quietly.

"The bed was cold," he responded inanely. He finally closed the distance between them, joining her on the couch, and rested his hand on her shoulder blade, not quite embracing her—at least not yet, unless he knew she was really okay with his joining her. He felt something ease inside his chest as she responded by shifting closer to him, leaning into him, and he took the hint, sliding his arm the rest of the way around her.

But for all that she appeared to welcome his closeness—which was enough, he told himself, at least for now—she didn't speak either, didn't tell him why she'd been crying.

He waited and finally ventured, mildly, "Bad dreams?" It wasn't quite a question. Kate was a cop, after all; she had probably seen things in the course of her work that would give Stephen King nightmares. He thought about the way she'd turned to him after the kidnapping case that had ended badly.

She only sighed a little and nestled her head against his shoulder, which he took as encouragement to continue. He still didn't want to push her (and he had enough respect for Kate's stubbornness to know pushing Kate was likely to be futile anyway). And maybe it would help, encourage her to open up, if he shared something first.

"I've had dreams that scared me so badly I've needed to spend the rest of the night in a chair by Alexis's bed," he went on, truthfully. After Meredith had taken Alexis to Paris, he'd spent every night for a week watching Alexis sleep, had not been able to let Alexis out of his sight even at night. Letting her go back to school after a day to recover from the jetlag had been bad enough.

He shied away from the memory of that day, those hours, when he hadn't known where Alexis was, only that Meredith had taken her and that he couldn't reach Meredith. Instead, he went for an easier memory, one he felt better able to talk about.

She didn't say anything but there was a quality to her silence that told him she was listening. She was listening and she wasn't crying anymore.

"When Alexis was four, we went Christmas shopping at some mall in White Plains. I was trying on a charcoal fedora. When I turned around, she was gone. I looked everywhere."

She made a soft murmuring sound and he tightened his arm around her as he continued, "Mall security looked too and eventually, so did the police. No sign of her."

"Where did you eventually find her?" she asked quietly, the first thing she'd said since he joined her on the couch.

"Behind a rack of winter coats. She got bored so she crawled underneath there and went to sleep."

"Of course she wouldn't have just wandered off," she murmured. "That wouldn't be like Alexis."

"No," he agreed. Thankfully. "But to this day, I still dream about it, those hours I spent searching for her. It doesn't take a mystery writer to imagine all the bad things that could happen. And every time, I've needed to go check on her, make sure she was really okay."

Kate lifted her head just enough to brush her lips against his chin before resting her head against his shoulder again. He turned his head to press his lips to her hair in turn and it occurred to him that maybe this really was enough for now. He didn't need Kate to bare her soul to him entirely—there was time and more for that—but she was letting him comfort her with his presence and his touch, wasn't sending him away. He could wait.

They sat in silence for another few minutes but the silence was comfortable, soothing. He'd never actually told anyone else about that day in the mall or the nightmares he still had about it but talking about it to Kate seemed natural. Who else did he trust so much? And with Kate, he knew he didn't need to play the charming playboy or the bad boy celebrity, didn't need to be anything other than what he was.

But trust her as he might—and did—he couldn't quite help the little nagging spike of fear accompanying the thought of how much he loved her. It was actually terrifying to be in love like this. Almost as terrifying as being a father was and goodness knows, he still wasn't entirely used to that. How did a person get used to the feeling that half their heart was suddenly running around outside their body, vulnerable to all sorts of hurts and accidents? And it wasn't as if being in love had ended well for him before.

Kate was not Meredith. She wasn't even like Kyra, he reminded himself firmly. This relationship was different, more. He resettled his arm more comfortably around her, the solid warmth of her tucked into his side reassuring him as nothing else could have.

They had been quiet for long enough that he had stopped expecting her to speak but then she did, quietly, so quietly he almost had to strain to hear the words. "It wasn't a bad dream."

He blinked, confused for a split second before he remembered, his quiet assumption that a bad dream had been what woke her up, made her cry.

"It was a good one."

Now he was confused all over again. A good dream was what had made her cry?

"It was… about my mom."

Oh. Oh god. Oh Kate. Castle tightened his arm around her, his throat going tight with emotion, keeping him from speaking, not that he had any idea what to say. What could he say that wouldn't sound trite? And he was, too, a little afraid that if he said anything, she might stop.

"I dreamed… she was still here and it just… it felt so real… like I could smell her perfume and hear her laugh and… then I woke up." Her breath hitched on a stifled sob and he wrapped his other arm around her, tugging her just the slightest bit closer until she was almost sitting on his lap and she turned her face into his shoulder, sniffling a little. "I miss her so much."

Oh god. His chest ached as if he'd cracked a rib. He pressed his lips to her hair. "I'm sorry," he said stupidly—and it was stupid, so trite, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. "What can I do, Kate? How can I help?" He would do anything, he thought. At that moment, he had no doubt of that, he would do anything to make her feel better.

She wrapped her arm around him, for the first time doing more than simply resting in his embrace. "Just hold me."

That, he could and would do, for the rest of his life, if she wanted him to. He shifted his hold on her until she was fully sitting in his lap, turning her so her legs were once more on the couch and she was resting more firmly against his chest. She nestled her head against his shoulder, resting her forehead against his neck, the curve between his chin and his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her back in a slow, repetitive caress that he hoped was soothing. But he couldn't help but note that she wasn't crying. Her shoulders were still, there was no hitch in her breathing to indicate a sob, and the fabric of his robe remained stubbornly dry.

But she was letting him hold her, had asked him to hold her—and from Kate Beckett, that meant a lot.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed in that position but it was long enough that he was starting to wonder if she had fallen asleep. She hadn't stirred or moved in a while and hadn't made a sound.

But then she sighed a little, and he felt her kiss his shoulder, even through the cloth of his robe, before she nestled her head against him again. And after a while, she spoke, her voice quiet. "My mom liked to read mysteries."

His heart leaped at this, such a little thing, but she was talking about her mom and he knew her well enough to know that she didn't speak about her mom easily. "Mm," he murmured gently, encouragingly, after a long pause. "Is that why you started to read them too?"

She shook her head a little, making a soft sound like a snort. "No. I was a teenager and I thought I was too smart to read contemporary mass market stuff, too busy with Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky to read people like Patterson."

Oh. He tamped down the stupid niggle of disappointment since he knew she'd changed her mind about reading mysteries.

"My mom had just bought a new book by an author she liked about a month before… Because of work and the holidays, she didn't have a chance to finish it before…" Before her mom died, he silently filled in the gaps at the end of the sentences.

A new book released around December of 1998. Patterson had released a new book around then. (Patterson always seemed to have a new book either just out or about to be released.) Cannell had released a new one about a month before, which he remembered because he'd been asked to provide a quote for the cover. And _Storm Season_ had been released in November of that year.

Wait. No, it couldn't be…

"The book was _At Dusk We Die._ "

Oh god. He shut his eyes for a moment, the significance of it sinking in. _At Dusk We Die_ , his last stand-alone before he'd started the Derrick Storm books, released in the spring of 1998. Her mom had been reading _At Dusk We Die_ when she'd died.

He couldn't breathe, might never be able to breathe again, he thought inanely, as the weight of this new knowledge pressed down on his chest. Her _mom_ had read his books.

"My mom didn't have time to finish it… So I did. I finished it for her." She paused and then added with a small sniff, "Told her what happened in it."

That was why Kate had started to read mysteries, started to read his books. Oh god. He could guess at the subtext of her admission, that she had started to read his books to feel closer to her mom. He released a shaky breath.

"My mom liked your books. She would have liked you."

His lungs forgot how to function all over again. And he was just wrecked, unmanned completely, by this admission. Her mom had read his books and Kate thought her mom would have liked him.

"I'm sure I would have liked her too," he managed to croak, his voice not sounding like himself.

Kate lifted her head and he saw the small smile trembling on her lips even as he caught a glitter of tears in her eyes. And then she was cupping his cheek in her hand and feathering her lips against his. "Thank you."

"For what?" He hadn't done anything, was all too aware that he really could not do anything when it came to Kate's loss, her grief.

"This. Inviting me here. It… helps."

God, she was amazing. He… forgot sometimes how much grief, how much hurt, Kate must have suffered in these last years, how much grief she lived with every day. She had lost so much, her mom dying when Kate had been so young, her dad's troubles—but Kate had survived all that, like a phoenix rising from ashes. Become a cop, the youngest female homicide detective ever—and if that wasn't enough, she was so good with Alexis, so affectionate, so giving.

Emotion swelled up inside him, the words—I love you—rising to his lips but he swallowed them back. He wasn't sure if she was ready to hear them—and he wasn't sure he should be so ready to say them. Because it was fast, he knew that. Hell, his relationship with Gina had technically lasted longer than this relationship with Kate so far (hard as that was to believe)—but the heart wanted what the heart wanted. And his heart wanted Kate.

Instead, he went with an easier truth.

"You never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

A faint smile flickered over her lips. "You too," she breathed before she leaned in and kissed him again, lingering this time. His mouth opened for her and the kiss deepened as a soft groan got caught in his throat.

She drew back just enough to meet his eyes. "Let's go back to bed," she husked.

That was an invitation he would never turn down. "Yes," he blurted out, too quickly, and he saw the flash of her teeth in another smile before she uncurled her legs and stood up before taking his hand to pull him with her, not that she really needed to.

He was more than eager to retreat to the privacy of their bedroom, all but chased her into it until they were falling back into bed and he proceeded to show her that he loved her with every touch of his mouth and his hands and his body.

* * *

Kate slept in the next morning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, considering how late it had been when she had finally drifted to sleep for good (after Castle had reduced her to a blissful, boneless puddle in his bed). She woke up slowly, tugged into consciousness with the scent of coffee wreathing through her senses, and she blinked awake to focus on the mug sitting on the nightstand.

Oh. She felt a small smile curve her lips. Castle.

She had an odd sense of a long passage of time brought on by an emotional upheaval and she felt her smile fade as she remembered her dream—the vividness of it, the brief moments of happiness, of seeing her mom again, smiling at her—and then waking to the brutal reminder that it wasn't real, her mom was dead. She hadn't had such a vivid dream about her mom in a few years and it had ripped away her fragile control of her emotions where her mom was concerned and she'd needed to slide out from under Castle's encircling arm and escape so she could cry.

Until Castle had found her and stayed with her, a mostly undemanding, comforting presence, a strong body to lean against. He hadn't pried, hadn't pushed for a confidence. And somehow, that had made it easier, somehow—that, and the darkness—to talk to him, tell him more than she ever had about her mom. And he had helped, being able to curl into his broad chest, cosseted by his cozy strength, comforted by his unstinting affection, tangible assurance that she wasn't alone.

But now, in the light of day, she felt the first niggle of uncertainty over her own vulnerability, how much she'd shared. She hadn't told anyone so much about her mom in years, not since… not since Pawel, back in Kiev, just over a year after her mom's death—and he had dumped her just after that for being "too sad." And as she already knew, people didn't want to deal with her and her grief. No, when she cried, she cried alone. Her college friends had drifted away after her mom's death too because she hadn't been any fun anymore, had not had any inclination to go out or be sociable. When she'd transferred to NYU, she'd still been left severely alone, everyone already having formed their own groups of friends and she was too sunk into her grief, her worries over her dad, to even try to make friends.

And then she'd met Castle. Had fallen in love with Castle. (Oh god.) And even though she knew—she _knew_ —that Castle was not nearly as shallow and self-centered as Pawel had been, she couldn't help but feel a little chill of nervousness, of fear.

How would Castle react, this morning after he'd seen some of how damaged, how haunted, she was? She couldn't stand pity and if he pitied her…

She made a face, tried not to flinch, as she sat up and reached for the coffee. Some of her tension dissolved almost instantly, not (for once) due to the magical effects of coffee but because Castle had somehow shaped the foam into the shape of a heart.

It should have been—was—ridiculously cheesy but damn if she didn't feel a little flutter of pleasure inside her anyway. Oh, that man.

She gulped down the coffee and then slowed it down to sips, the better to savor it. It might sound absurd but one of the things she loved about him was that he made a really good cup of coffee. She finished the coffee too quickly and then made quick work of getting dressed, eager, now, to see him again and (fine) get another cup of his coffee.

She really had slept in. It was after 9 when she made it downstairs to find she'd been preceded not just by Castle but also by Alexis, who was already sitting at the table with a book, while Castle made waffles.

Alexis greeted her with a sunny smile and Castle a somewhat softer one as he accepted her empty coffee mug, letting his fingers brush against hers.

Kate felt herself flush in spite of herself at the look in his eyes, the emotion, because it wasn't pity. It was… tenderness, what she almost dared to think—hope—might be... love. But all he said was, "Good morning, Kate. Do you want a refill of your coffee?"

She didn't know why but somehow, the mundane question eased her lingering fears. This was still Castle, her Castle, the man who had somehow managed to make her feel better on the Anniversary, the man who'd never seemed to view her as a victim even after knowing about her history.

She gave him a smile and brushed a kiss to his chin. "Yes, please."

She would have stepped back after that, mindful of Alexis's presence, but Castle caught her by the waist and kept her in place, dipping his head to taste her mouth more thoroughly, until the kiss broke apart at the sound of Alexis's groan.

"Daddy, you're being gross."

Castle released Kate as he turned to make a face at Alexis. "Am not. My kisses are never gross."

As if to prove it, he went over to Alexis and bent to kiss her cheek, only to proceed to blow a loud, obnoxious raspberry, making Alexis shriek with protesting laughter and push Castle's face away. "Ew, Daddy, stop it!"

"Yeah, Castle, stop bothering Alexis and pour me more coffee," Kate chimed in, dropping a wink at Alexis.

Castle heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I'm surrounded by bossy females." But even as he pretended to complain, he duly refilled her mug and prepared her coffee as she liked it.

Kate shot him a deliberately flirtatious look. "I thought you liked that about me," she murmured, lowering her voice.

His eyes flared. "Oh I do, I like everything about you," he immediately blurted out.

"I'll remind you of that next time we have a fight," she teased.

He gave her a look of mock dismay. "Why, Beckett, I can't imagine why we would ever have a fight. I am the soul of sweetness and light!"

Kate snorted and Alexis called out, "That's not what Grams says."

Castle pointed his spoon at Alexis in mock threat. "Haven't I told you before not to listen to anything Grams says about me?"

Alexis only smirked at him. "Yes, Daddy, but I know you too well to listen."

"Just for that, you're not getting any waffles," he pretended to threaten.

"But Daddy, it's my breakfast and you always say breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Using my own words against me is not fair, you know," he grumbled.

"I'm just too smart for you, Daddy," Alexis returned.

Castle threw her an exaggerated scowl. "Did Grams tell you that too?"

"No, you've told me that." Alexis gave her dad a beatific smile.

Kate dissolved into laughter at the face Castle made. "By my count, that's Alexis: 2, Castle: 0," she spoke up.

"You, stop encouraging her," Castle turned his mock glower on Kate. Only for his pretend displeasure to be entirely belied—predictably—as he proceeded to serve them both with a waffle and then brought over another plate stacked high with more waffles for seconds (and thirds) along with his own waffle.

Their breakfast passed with as much laughter and sheer fun as Kate had come to expect from meals with the Castle family. (It was… a little odd, foreign, to be looking forward to things again but somehow, now, she did, anticipation for every hour she spent with them, tentative hope sprouting tendrils inside her, hope that this relationship—this happiness—could and would last.)

After breakfast, Alexis retreated to the living room to finish her book while Kate helped Castle with the cleaning up.

Once she was done with the dishes, he moved in behind her to trap her against the sink, lowering his lips to her neck and she couldn't help but sag back into him, her head falling forward to allow him greater access. "What—ooh—what are the plans for today?" she asked, the question punctuated by a breathy moan. Really, he should not be able to do this to her after the last night, the last few days—but no, somehow, she always reacted to him, to the touch of his lips and his hands.

He lifted his head and she couldn't help a soft sigh, almost a huff, of disappointment that she knew he'd heard—damn it—because when he turned her around to face him, there was a smirk tugging at his lips. "Alexis was invited to go to a friend's house this afternoon for a pool party followed by a barbecue so I thought that we could go out tonight."

Another real date night with Castle. A silly, giddy thrill raced through her at the thought but she sternly schooled her expression. "Well, if Alexis will be busy, I suppose I can hang out with just you this evening," she drawled.

"Don't be like that, Beckett. You know you want to go out with me," he returned, the smirk more prominent.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Being cocky is really not an attractive look for you." (A lie.)

"Aha, but you are admitting you find me attractive," he all but crowed.

Ridiculous man. And annoying—well, he _ought to be_ annoying but somehow, she couldn't quite seem to grasp the kernel of irritation. Not at him, not now. "Not when you're being cocky," she retorted.

His smirk only grew. Yeah, he knew _exactly_ how attractive she found him to be, at all times, always. Damn the man. He lowered his head until his lips were hovering just above hers, their breaths mingling—well, sort of mingling, since her breathing was getting shallow. "Yeah?" he husked, his voice dropping into his velvety bedroom voice that did funny things to her insides. "I bet I can make you change your mind about that."

Huh, what? Her thoughts were already fragmenting, losing track of whatever they'd been talking about. And why was he even still talking and not putting his mouth to better use like kissing her? Because he was still not kissing her.

She cudgeled her brain back into some semblance of coherence. "You sound very sure of yourself," she returned, although the words came out more breathy than tart.

"It's confidence," he breathed—and still did not kiss her.

Well, he couldn't have it all his way. This not-kissing-her thing just had to stop. She let her tongue slip out to moisten her lips, slowly, and heard his breathing hitch. Then, for good measure, she bit her lower lip.

That did it. His mouth came crashing down on hers and she would have smirked in triumph but his mouth was in the way and then his tongue was in her mouth and she forgot all about the little game of flirtation he had started—she had started, whatever—and just gave herself up to his kiss, loving the taste of him, the banked passion she sensed in him, as he thoroughly ravished her mouth.

God, she loved his kisses, loved being kissed by him. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she never wanted to do this with anyone else, never wanted to kiss anyone else, ever again.

Fortunately (or not), Alexis chose to announce her reappearance with a blithe "Daddy, I finished my book!" which gave them time to break apart, both of them breathing hard.

Kate immediately spun around to face the sink to try to regain her composure while Castle had to cough before he could respond in a voice that was reasonably close to normal, "That's great, pumpkin. Why don't you tell me about it?"

This must be what it would be like to have kids, Kate thought dimly, private moments being interrupted at inopportune times. Wait, kids? As in… _Whoa, Kate, slow down!_ She turned on the cold water for the sink, plunging her hands under the stream of cold water, and proceeded to wash her hands with the thoroughness of a surgeon prepping for surgery, the mindless task and the cold serving to expunge her mind of any dangerous thoughts and her lingering arousal too, before she turned around to rejoin Castle and Alexis.

Courtesy of Alexis's afternoon plans, they spent a somewhat less active morning at the beach, just going for a walk and collecting shells, which Castle proceeded to use as a starting point to weave an involved tale of sea creatures banding together to defeat a sea monster—impressively, since he was clearly making the story up as he went along. He really was such a writer.

God, she was dating—more, had _fallen in love with_ —her favorite living author. Would that ever not sound surreal?

After lunch, Alexis had to get ready to go to her pool party and Kate took the opportunity to soak in some sun and relax while reading another book from Castle's extensive library in a way she normally didn't have time to do.

With Alexis gone, it turned into a quiet, low-key sort of day, the sort Kate almost never had of having nothing to do but relax and enjoy herself. Castle left her alone after checking to make sure she didn't want a drink or anything else and it occurred to her to wonder if he was writing again. She wouldn't have expected to be able to have such alone time with Castle around but she liked it, appreciated that he could give her space, even as it served to make her anticipate their date a little more.

Later, she may have primped a little in preparing for their date, putting more effort into her make-up, and deliberately slipping into the other sexy underwear she'd brought with her, a matching set of bra and underwear made up of lace and satin, before stepping into a sundress. It wasn't quite formal enough if they were going somewhere very fancy but she thought she could get away with it.

And Castle certainly had no issues with her appearance when she stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes going wide and dark with admiration. "You are so gorgeous," he blurted out.

She couldn't help but smile. She kind of loved that too, the way she could make him lose any claim to suavity he had. "You're not so bad yourself," she managed but knew her voice sounded huskier than she'd meant it to as her eyes wandered up and down his form. Not so bad—yeah, right. He looked… um, _delicious_. He was wearing a nice suit that accentuated his height and his broad shoulders, his chest, and his deep blue shirt almost perfectly echoed the cobalt of his eyes in a way that… um, yeah… She really liked his eyes.

Her eyes made it back to his face to see the smirk on his face. Damn it. "See something you like, Detective?"

She forced herself to shrug. "I'm looking forward to a nice dinner," she said with as much casualness as she could muster.

He huffed a laugh. "I don't think you were thinking about eating actual food."

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't," she retorted as she left the room, being sure to put a little extra sway in her hips and smirked to herself as she heard him mutter something about 'evil' behind her.

In spite of the teasing, though, they were both perfectly well-behaved on the drive out to town and the restaurant, which was right by the water (of course) and was elegant but not so formal as to make her feel underdressed.

Conversation was light and easy as they ate and talked about everything and nothing in particular and afterwards, Castle helped her with her wrap and then offered, "We have some time before we should pick up Alexis. Do you want to walk along the pier?"

She smiled. "Sure."

Outside, the ocean breeze and the dark made it feel cool and a little shiver trembled through her and Castle felt it, glanced at her. "Do you want my jacket?"

She shook her head and fit herself closer into his side as he put his arm around her shoulders. "I'll be fine." It was true, too. He was tall enough and broad enough to block her from most of the wind and as usual, he was radiating heat like a furnace.

They walked in silence for a couple minutes and then she broke the silence. "How is your writing coming?"

"It's fine," he answered briefly and uninformatively.

She blinked and frowned a little. He really didn't talk about his writing much at all. Actually, come to think of it, he didn't talk a lot about himself most of the time. He was good at the meaningless patter and he talked about Alexis quite a bit (for obvious reasons and she did love that he trusted her with Alexis) but it occurred to her that he didn't share about himself, at least not the real him, much more freely than she did herself. But she wanted to know him, know his stories and the things that had shaped him, and yes, she wanted to know about his writing, partly because she was a fan but also because she liked his mind, the way it worked. "You know you can talk to me, right?" she offered, rather lamely. "I'm not just asking to be polite."

That made him huff a laugh and pause to brush a kiss to her temple. "I think we're past the stage of polite small talk, Beckett."

She laughed too. "We are. But seriously, Castle, I do want to know about your writing. I am a fan, after all," she added teasingly.

He flashed a grin at her in the darkness. "I could never forget that." He paused and then went on, with a change of tone, "I talked about my writing with Gina." Oh, right, of course, his ex-girlfriend/editor. "It was one of the things that brought us together but after a while, I realized that I didn't like it because I never knew if she was asking as my editor or as my girlfriend so I stopped, or tried to stop, talking about writing when Gina and I were out. And before—" he broke off and Kate tamped down the automatic little niggle of reaction because it was obvious that he was talking about other women he had dated—which was absurd of her because she trusted him and whatever his past, she was his present and that was what mattered.

"Before?" she prompted, mildly.

"Well, writing is my actual job and most people don't want to hear about the work that goes into it, the part that isn't glamorous or fun. They want to hear about the fun stuff, the publicity events, but hearing that I spend a lot of time holed up in my office alone, typing—well, even I don't think that sounds very interesting."

Oh, she hadn't thought about that aspect of it. She had no doubt that Castle would have encountered a lot of women interested in him for his celebrity status and his money (and yes, his looks) but none of those women would really have been interested in the real man.

"Well, none of those women were me," she responded.

He stopped and turned to face her, his hands coming up to cup her face as he met her eyes. "No, you're right. None of them were you." And then he kissed her, softly, tenderly, before he brushed a light kiss to the tip of her nose, quirking a small smile. "You're better."

It was not the most eloquent of compliments but she still felt an absurd rush of warmth in her chest. This was Richard Castle, after all, who could be with just about any woman he wanted and instead, he had chosen her, thought she was _better_. Not broken or damaged because of her past, her issues. She forced a light smirk that didn't reflect her feelings at all, suddenly needing to hide, retreat from the rush of emotion. "I like to think so," she quipped.

He laughed and kissed her again, just a quick swipe of his mouth across hers, before he adjusted his arm around her shoulders and resumed their idle stroll. "To answer your question, things really are fine. I was stuck for a few days on the climactic scene, the last fight, and when that happens, I can't force it, just have to put it aside, think about something else for a while."

"By procrastinating?" she needled mildly.

He gave a loud, fake gasp. "It's like you already know me."

She nudged him for this piece of silliness, smothering her laugh in his shoulder. Ridiculous man.

He went on, more seriously, "But the words came back, that's why I ran off and deserted you the other evening and now I'm almost done with the first draft of the next book. Which is lucky because it's due at the end of the week and if I'm late again, Gina will probably murder me."

"Good thing you know a homicide detective," she riposted.

"Yeah, lucky me." His tone was entirely serious and she didn't need his look at her to know what he meant. She was glad for the darkness that hid the flush on her cheeks. After a moment, he went on, "Actually, I should mention, the new book is going to be released at the end of the summer."

September 1, she knew because she'd already received the email announcement from his website but she still wasn't about to admit to being on his list-serve for that.

"I haven't reached any agreement with Black Pawn or my agent about whether or not there'll be a launch party for this one but either way, I'll need to do publicity for the book and Paula, my agent, will want me to show my face at some fancy parties, get my name out there. I've been able to mostly fly under the radar lately because I'm in between books but come August or so, I'll need to start making the rounds."

It occurred to her that he sounded… nervous. Why would he be nervous? But then she remembered what he'd said, about needing to go to fancy parties—and more, she remembered some of the pictures she'd seen of him in Page Six from some of those fancy parties, almost always with a different woman on his arm, all gorgeous, all looking more than a little charmed by him. It was all so far removed from her life it was the equivalent of life on Mars. But the fancy parties, the publicity, were all part of his life.

God, they really were from such different worlds, weren't they? He was this multi-millionaire celebrity, best-selling author—and she was just a struggling homicide detective, so new the gilt on her badge hadn't even lost any of its shine.

Wait, would he… not want her to go to these parties? She wouldn't be comfortable at them herself and wouldn't say she wanted to go but it was different, thinking he might not want her to go.

"Okay," she said, just to say something, and then another aspect of this occurred to her. "So do you want me to stay with Alexis while you're going to these parties?" Actually, she would probably be happier staying with Alexis than going to the parties.

He stopped and turned to stare at her. "What? Why would I—no! I mean, of course, if you want to, and Alexis is always happy to see you, but—" He broke off and then sighed, grimacing. "Sorry, let me start again. What I wanted to ask was whether you'd want to come with me to at least some of the parties. I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to," he hurriedly added, "and I get that publicity isn't something you want or that would help you with your job and I'd never want to get in the way of your job but if you want to, if you're okay with it, I'd like you to come with me."

Oh. She hadn't even thought of that, that her ability to do her job wouldn't be helped by becoming fodder for celebrity gossip—but Castle had thought of it. Oh, this sweet man. How could she, with all her issues, her defenses, deserve a man like this, who was so good to her?

On sudden impulse, she rose up on her toes to kiss him fiercely, trying to pour all the love she felt for him into the kiss.

When she drew back, he had to blink a few times before he managed to joke, still sounding a little breathless, "Wow, I had no idea you'd be so excited to go to a few fancy parties."

She tipped forward to muffle her laugh against his shirt, before she lifted her head and sobered. "Castle." For almost the first time, it felt a little… distant or something to be using his last name. After all, the entire point of this conversation was that they were, um, close and about to go public with that fact. "Rick," she tried more quietly and felt him stiffen a little at her use of his first name, his expression softening, flaring with something like delight. He liked it when she called him by his first name.

"I'm not saying I'm comfortable with the idea of publicity but I get that it's a part of your life." She paused, trying to formulate her words. This felt like… a commitment—which, of course, it was, in its own way, and she _was_ committed to this relationship but she hadn't exactly said so before either. It was planning, assuming, that she and Castle would still be together in three months. He already was assuming that. "And since we're in this relationship and I'm… a part of your life now, then I have to accept that some publicity comes along with that." She paused again and wondered if it was only her imagination that he was momentarily holding his breath—and her brain kicked back into action and she managed a small smile. "So I guess what I mean to say is, 'all right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.'"

He let out a surprised huff of a laugh and then it was his turn to surge forward and kiss her with so much passion she found herself sagging into him and decidedly short of breath when he eventually lifted his head. "Thank you, Kate," he almost panted and added, after a moment, "And I'll talk to Paula, make sure we try to limit your exposure so it doesn't get in the way of your work. I'm not—I don't want to make your life, your job, harder."

"That's fine."

"Okay." He paused and then added, with a change of tone, "You have no idea how many points you just scored for quoting that line correctly."

She laughed softly and kissed him again, softly this time, and for a long minute or two or ten, they stood there, locked in an embrace, not quite swaying but not quite not, exchanging brief, soft kisses.

They could have been in their own little world, a happy lovers' bubble, but then from somewhere, there was the sound of a car door slamming and then someone laughing, and the rest of the world intruded once again. Kate gave Castle one last, quick kiss, just because she wanted to, and then reluctantly stepped back. "Come on, Castle, let's go pick up Alexis," was all she said.

And the way he looked at her, smiled at her, before he closed his hand around hers for the walk back to his car, made her think, maybe he really could—might—love her…

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: As always, thank you to all readers and reviewers!


	38. Chapter 38

Author's Note: In case anyone is interested and missed it, I posted a separate smutty insert to Chapter 36, that can be found on my author page. And now to return to actual plot.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 38_

Kate supposed she ought to have been expecting it but somehow, she was still surprised to find herself swamped when she got back to work on Tuesday after taking the long weekend off. In what seemed like the universe's way of evening the score after spending a blissful couple days in the Hamptons with Castle and Alexis (the universe? She made a mental note never to phrase it like that around Castle because he might never stop crowing over his influence), she was slammed with back-to-back cases after she returned so she crawled into bed after midnight every night and barely got a chance to catch her breath. And from some of the muttering she heard in the precinct, she guessed that she had a lot more of the same to look forward to as summer tended to be a busy season, homicide-wise, as if the heat brought out the insanity in people.

She grimaced and hesitated for just a moment before deciding and turning her car in the direction of the loft. It was already after 8 so she knew Castle and Alexis would have finished dinner long ago and Castle wasn't really expecting her since she'd texted him earlier when another body had dropped to let him know she wasn't sure when she'd be leaving work but she just wanted to see him. See _them_.

She missed them, so much, after not seeing them since Monday afternoon when they had returned to the City from the Hamptons. Three full days of not only not seeing Castle and Alexis but barely communicating with Castle at all because she'd been so busy that she and Castle had only been able to exchange a few text messages here and there. So here it was Friday evening and she'd spent the last four nights alone and hadn't so much as kissed Castle in four days—and she was finding that, as absurd as it sounded, one day, maybe two, was about as long as she was willing to go without kissing Castle. God, she was ridiculous. (No, not ridiculous, in love, a voice in her mind corrected, and she felt herself flush, biting her lip. Even thinking the words still had her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.)

Thanks to the Friday evening traffic, it seemed to take a short eternity before she finally reached the loft.

She smiled at the doorman as she lifted a hand in greeting as she passed through the lobby, feeling her mood lifting already just from the anticipation of finally seeing Castle and Alexis again, of being able to fall into bed with Castle, feel the warmth of his skin against hers.

The smile playing on her lips froze as the door of the loft swung open to reveal neither Castle nor Alexis (or even Martha) but a striking young woman with bright red hair that made her identity easy to guess—and had Kate's body already tensing. This had to be Meredith.

"Oh, um, hi, you must be Alexis's mother," she managed, forcing a small polite smile and holding out her hand. "I'm Kate Beckett… Rick's girlfriend," she added a little belatedly, sounding awkward to her own ears.

The woman—Meredith—blinked and then smiled brightly—and artificially, if Kate was any judge. "Of course, you must be Kate. I've heard so much about you." She did not shake Kate's hand, either not seeing it or simply ignoring it. Kate's money was on the latter but she only lowered her hand. And Meredith did, at least, step back to allow Kate inside. "My daughter seems to be besotted with you."

Kate was greeted by Alexis with a somewhat subdued "Hi, Kate," and a hug, after a quick, almost cautious glance at her mother.

Kate returned the girl's hug, giving the little girl a squeeze and passing a lightly caressing hand down Alexis's bright hair. "Hi, Alexis." She refused to moderate her greeting because of Meredith's presence but then she had no reason to be careful of Meredith's feelings. She bent so she was more on a level with Alexis. "How was school this week? How did your spelling quiz on Tuesday go?"

Alexis's expression brightened. "I got a 98% on the quiz Tuesday. Mrs. Forrester said I got the highest score in the class! Thank you for helping me study."

Kate grinned, giving the girl a high-five. "That's great, Alexis! And I'm sure you could have done just as well without my help."

Alexis shook her head quickly. "It was easier with you helping."

"You didn't tell me about your spelling quiz, Alexis," Meredith inserted, regaining Alexis's attention.

Alexis turned to look at her mother. "You didn't ask me, Mommy," she reasoned.

Kate bit back a smile. Clever girl.

"Well, I'm very proud of you for doing so well," Meredith praised and Kate wondered if it was being too catty to think that Meredith didn't actually care about Alexis's schooling at all but wasn't going to be outdone in praise. "And now we have something more to celebrate tomorrow, don't we, sweetie? We are just going to have the best day tomorrow, right, darling? We'll go out for a delicious brunch and then go shopping and then get a manicure so our nails will look fabulous. It'll be the best mother-daughter day ever, don't you think, Alexis?"

Alexis's answering smile was a shade wan. "It sounds fun but Mommy, we're not going to go anywhere outside the city, right?"

Meredith gave a trilling little laugh. "Why, no, sweetie, of course not."

Alexis persisted. "Because I'm supposed to go over to my friend Paige's house on Sunday to watch a movie and I don't want to miss it."

Kate inwardly frowned. Why was Alexis so concerned that she might be gone overnight on a shopping expedition? That was ridiculous—except Alexis was not a fanciful child given to wild imaginings.

Meredith only laughed again, as if Alexis was being ridiculous. "Don't be silly, darling. We'll be back after dinner."

Almost before Meredith finished speaking, Castle returned, hurrying back into the room from his office, only to pause as he saw Kate, his expression lighting up. "Sorry about that. Kate! Honey, you're home," he greeted Kate with only mildly less fervor than that usually associated with family members greeting soldiers returning home from war, wrapping his arms around Kate with enough enthusiasm to momentarily push the breath from her lungs before he kissed her hard, if briefly, and kept his arm around her even after the kiss ended.

Okay… It didn't take a genius to guess that this unusual display of affection—honey? He'd never used the endearment, or any endearment, with her before—had to do with Meredith, Castle clearly wanting to make a statement about their relationship.

Kate blinked but kept her expression as bland as possible, as if Castle greeted her like this every day. She had missed him and, well, she wasn't above a little possessive display to show her place in Castle's life.

"Richard, there you are, I was just getting to know your little friend better," Meredith chimed in.

Kate forcibly did not react to being referred to as Castle's 'little friend,' but she felt Castle stiffen. Clearly, Castle had the right idea in wanting to make their relationship clear to Meredith.

"Well, now you've met Kate. Satisfied?" he retorted coolly.

"Now, Richard, don't be like that. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't want to meet the woman my daughter is spending so much time with? Kids are so susceptible to influence, you know," Meredith added with a look and tone that would have done justice to a Hallmark movie's portrayal of the world's most loving and solicitous mother.

She turned to direct her smile at Kate. "I've heard so much about you from Alexis, I simply had to come out here and meet you for myself. You understand, don't you, Kate?"

Castle's tension spiked but Kate forced a smile. "Of course, it's completely understandable." She deliberately tightened her arm around Castle's waist, her fingers lightly squeezing his side, and he grasped her hand in his, although his tension didn't diminish by much.

He only looked over at Alexis, his expression softening. "I think it's time for you to get ready for bed, pumpkin."

"I know, Daddy," Alexis agreed, and glanced at Kate. "Good night, Kate. Good night, Mommy."

"Oh, but you don't have to say goodnight to me now, Alexis, darling," Meredith cooed. "I'll help you get ready for bed and then tuck you in." She glanced at Castle. "Kitten, you don't mind helping me get my bag upstairs, do you?"

Wait, what?

For the first time, Kate noticed that there was a suitcase—and not that small of one—sitting by the stairs. Meredith was staying here? And kitten?

She swore she heard Castle grinding his teeth but all he said, his tone firm and measured, was, "Meredith, I already told you, you are not staying here. I've called the Plaza Hotel to arrange a room for you and that's all set."

He glanced at Alexis, his entire demeanor changing, again. "Pumpkin, are you okay with your mom tucking you in?"

"Yes, Mommy can tuck me in," Alexis agreed before she threw herself at Castle, who released Kate in order to catch his daughter in his arms. "Good night, Daddy."

Castle pressed a kiss to Alexis's hair, his eyes falling closed, and Kate felt a little tightness in her throat at the look on his face. It wasn't as if she was unfamiliar with how much Castle loved Alexis but now, with Meredith around, it just made the emotion so much more poignant. He was so worried about his daughter, trying so hard to protect her from her own mother.

He released Alexis who gave Kate a small wave. "Good night, Kate." She hesitated and then asked, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, you will. Sleep well, Alexis."

Alexis brightened before turning to her mom. "Okay, Mommy, I'm going to get ready for bed now."

"I'll help you. You must have some new clothes to show me too, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yes, Grams bought me some new stuff," Alexis agreed and went upstairs, accompanied by her mother, her voice trailing off as she described some of her new outfits for her mother's benefit.

Meredith's absence, temporary as it was, didn't do much to lessen Castle's tension so Kate turned towards him and tugged his head down to kiss him, slowly, lingeringly. Partly to distract him and lift his mood, yes, but also just because she wanted to. She'd missed him and spending almost a full week without him was not what she'd wanted to do.

It took him a moment before he responded but then there was no mistaking that he was into it, his arms locking around her, as he nipped lightly at her lower lip and then soothed it with his tongue before his tongue surged into her mouth, engaging in a delicious dance with hers.

She was breathless and sagging against him when the kiss eventually ended. "Better now?" she managed, not entirely steadily.

A smile curved his lips. "Much. I missed that, missed you. Sorry I wasn't here to… greet you at first," he added, a faint intonation of his voice telling her that what he meant was be there to act as a buffer between her and Meredith when they met. "I turned in the first draft of the book today and Gina called with some questions." He paused. "Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah, Hassan and I ordered pizza while we were going through our latest vic's phone records earlier," she assured him.

"You've had a busy week. What is this, the third case you've had since Tuesday?"

"Yeah. The criminals might have just been saving it up until I got back," she joked.

"Stupid of them. With you around, they should know they'd never get away with it."

Silly man. "You seem to have put a lot of thought into it," she said with mock suspicion. "Should I be worried about what you get up to when I'm not around?"

"Nah, Alexis makes sure I behave, remember?"

"Oh right, of course. Well, she is very good at that," she agreed, biting back a smile.

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "She's such a spoilsport, she never lets me have any fun."

"She didn't stop you over the police horse incident," she jibed.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Will you get over that already? I still don't think it's fair that you got a look at my confidential police record," he pretended to grumble.

"I'm saving it for blackmail material," she deadpanned.

"Hey, I resent that!" he yelped and she gave into her laugh and he joined her after a moment.

The shared laughter ended as he rested his forehead against hers. "Oh, Kate…" he sighed.

"Oh, Castle," she parroted teasingly.

A faint smile curved his lips and he brushed a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Funny, Beckett."

"I really am," she pretended to preen.

He huffed a soft laugh that was cut off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs and they broke apart, although Castle quite deliberately kept his arm around Kate's waist. Kate bit her lip, feeling discomfited at the realization that Meredith had probably heard at least a little of her and Castle's little exchange—but then decided she didn't care if Meredith had. After all, if anything was going to make it clear to Meredith that Kate and Castle were happy together, it would have been overhearing their teasing that bordered on flirtation.

Meredith appeared, looking melancholy, all but wiping away tears from her eyes.

Castle's voice was noticeably gentler as he asked, "What is it, Meredith? Is Alexis okay?"

Meredith sniffed a little and gave Castle a somewhat watery smile. "Oh, she's just fine. I was just realizing how long it's been since I last tucked her into bed."

Oh, the woman was good. Kate narrowed her eyes at Meredith. She might be being catty and possibly unfair but she really couldn't believe Meredith's sincerity. She remembered Alexis's small, hurt voice asking why her mom didn't like spending time with her, remembered too Alexis's gratitude whenever Kate did spend time with her, which spoke volumes for how little Alexis expected from women in her life. Meredith certainly had not tucked Alexis into bed recently but that was Meredith's fault.

She glanced at Castle. She might be skeptical of Meredith but she had no reason to like Meredith, whereas Castle… well, he had once been married to the woman and he was a man and most men were soft touches when it came to a woman's tears.

"Well, you've tucked her in now and you said you plan to spend the weekend with her," Castle responded, his voice mild but not noticeably warm.

Kate felt a little knot of unease dissolve. No, it didn't appear Castle was in much danger of trusting Meredith even if he was too kind a man to be harsh.

Meredith blinked rapidly—and beguilingly—up at Castle. "Of course I do. I've flown all this way to spend time with my daughter. Now, Richard, it was such a long flight and I'm terribly tired and since I've come all this way, are you sure I can't stay here with you and Alexis? I'm sure Kate doesn't mind, do you, Kate?"

Meredith turned to Kate and Kate had to answer, "I don't mind," because what choice did she have, although it was beyond her to inject any warmth into her voice. Because yes, she did mind. She trusted Castle but something about the mere idea of his ex-wife staying in the loft, even if it was in the guest room on a different floor from her and Castle, didn't sit right.

Castle shot a glance at Kate but only responded, "I already called the Plaza Hotel, like I told you, Meredith, and I can call up a car to be here in just a few minutes to take you right over so you won't need to do a thing." Except leave, of course, but Castle did not say that, Kate noted.

Meredith pouted prettily. "But kitten, you know I always prefer to stay here with you and Alexis when I'm in town."

Always? Meredith had stayed here at the loft before on her visits-even after their divorce? And what the hell was up with this 'kitten' business? Kate darted a glance at Castle. Kate could guess that Meredith meant the, um, endearment to soften Castle up but she clearly misjudged it because if anything, Castle appeared less receptive than ever.

"I'm calling the car service for you," he said shortly. "What time will you be here tomorrow to pick up Alexis?"

Meredith thought and then answered, "I should be here by noon and I plan to take Alexis to brunch before we go shopping."

"Noon," Castle repeated. "All right, Alexis will be ready." He pulled out his cell phone and made a call, arranging for a car, and then put his phone away. "Okay, Meredith, the car will be here in about 5 minutes, they said. I'll help you get your bag outside," he offered, darting a glance at Kate, who nodded.

Meredith turned a smile on Kate, as brightly as if it had been her idea all along to go to a hotel. "Well, it was so lovely to finally meet you, Kate, and I must say, it's so sweet of you to be so nice to my little girl. I do appreciate it."

Kate promptly manufactured a smile and put it on. "It was nice to meet you too and no thanks are necessary. Alexis is a great kid." Well, at least, that part she meant.

Meredith fluttered her fingers at Kate in a little wave. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon, Kate. Good night."

Kate clung to her smile. "Good night."

Castle met Kate's eyes for a moment. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Kate gave Castle a real smile. "I'll be here."

His expression lightened with a fleeting smile before he accompanied Meredith out of the loft, bringing her suitcase with him.

Left alone, Kate released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and went to put her gun away in Castle's safe. That done, she gave in to impulse and went upstairs to peek in on Alexis. Not because she didn't trust Meredith—she didn't but surely even Meredith could tuck Alexis into bed and Castle had appeared okay with it—but simply to make sure that Alexis was sleeping after the excitement of her mother showing up.

She was. The girl's breathing was deep and even but Kate couldn't help but wonder if there was a deeper meaning to the fact that even in her sleep, Alexis was clinging to Monkey Bunkey.

She made a small face but closed the girl's door quietly behind her and made her way back downstairs, detouring to the wine cooler to grab a bottle. She was still technically on duty—with an active case, she always needed to be ready to be called out—but she could have one glass and she guessed Castle could use something to help him unwind a little.

Castle returned just as she was getting the wine glasses out of the cabinet and she tipped one of the glasses towards him. "Want some wine— _honey_?" she added with teasing emphasis.

He had the grace to give a rather sheepish chuckle, although she noted that the strain didn't fully leave his expression. "I would love some wine, thanks."

She handed him a glass of wine and decided that asking him to tell her more about Meredith could wait.

He accepted the wine and sank down onto the couch with a sigh of relief and she joined him shortly afterwards, taking a sip of her wine before placing her glass on the table so she could tuck herself against his side.

He lifted his arm to curl around her shoulders, bending to press his lips against her hair, and gradually, she felt the tension leave his body.

He sipped his wine in silence for a few minutes but after a while, he began, "Sorry about the 'honey' thing. I wanted to make a point to Meredith because she―well, you've met her so you know what I mean."

"It's okay. I wouldn't say I like the term 'honey,' but I've been called worse," she quipped.

"If you don't like being called 'honey,' how about cupcake? Muffin? Ooh, I know, I could call you my little creampuff!" he suggested, apparently restored to his usual self.

She snorted and gave him a look. "Just try it, _kitten_."

He gave a histrionic wince. "Oh, ouch, low blow, Beckett. I was only kidding," he complained. "Can you please just forget you ever heard that godforsaken pet name?"

She snickered. "But it's such a cute nickname." She pretended to give him an assessing look. "And I think it suits you."

He pouted. "You're mean, Beckett."

She succumbed to her laughter and lifted herself enough to press a kiss to his jaw. "I'll make you a deal, you don't call me 'cupcake' or 'muffin' or your little creampuff and I won't call you 'kitten.'"

"It's a deal," he said immediately.

She smiled and gave him another quick kiss, on the lips this time, before settling back against his side and he gave her another mock pout over the brevity of the kiss. Silly, adorable man.

She retrieved her glass for another sip of her wine and then let her head rest against his shoulder, feeling her own tension, both from the long week she'd had and the, um, meeting with Meredith, start to seep out of her. Of course, the thought, the reminder, of Meredith wasn't exactly relaxing.

It seemed so… cliché and a little petty, for the girlfriend and the ex-wife to be at loggerheads but really, it was less about any sense of rivalry over Castle—no matter what Meredith might try to insinuate―than about Alexis and Meredith's cavalier treatment of her own daughter. Kate didn't know enough of what Meredith's relationship with Castle had been like to judge but Kate did know that Meredith hurt Alexis's feelings, over and over again. And that was quite enough to ensure that Kate was never going to like Meredith.

As if Castle sensed the direction her thoughts had taken, he broke the silence to say, "I'm sorry about Meredith, about the way she―" He broke off and then rephrased it, "Sorry about, well, everything. I didn't know she was coming; I would have mentioned it if I had. Meredith just showed up out of the blue a couple of hours ago when Alexis and I were in the middle of dinner."

"She was here for dinner?" Why that niggled at her, she didn't know. It was stupid, ridiculous, to feel such a twist in her chest at the thought, the mental image, of Meredith sitting at the dining table with Castle and Alexis. In _her_ chair, the chair Kate always sat in for meals here. Oh. That was it. It seemed so… silly, to feel so possessive over a piece of furniture-except it wasn't the chair, not really. That chair was where she'd sat for so many meals with Castle and Alexis over the last six months or so, since long before she and Castle had started dating, meals in which they'd… started to become a family. That was what it was; she was possessive over her place in this family.

"No. Well, sort of," he amended. "We were still eating when she showed up and she said she hadn't eaten anything on the plane so I had to give her some food. So yeah, I suppose, you could say she was here for dinner." He paused and then blurted out, as an aside, "Ironic, really, since I think I can count on my two hands the number of times she was home for dinner with me and Alexis when we were married."

Kate tried not to stiffen. It was the first time Castle had really mentioned anything about what his marriage had been like and from what he said, it wouldn't have been the picture of domesticity. She tamped down the urge to question Castle further about his marriage; she didn't want to interrogate him, not tonight.

But she did want to ask— "does she usually stay here when she's visiting?"

She felt him stiffen a little and then take a gulp of his wine as if to buy time before answering.

"Ah… she has sometimes," he answered carefully. "The first time, it was because she showed up unannounced late at night and it was raining and, well, I let her stay. Since then, she… tends to assume and, you might have noticed, she's not exactly good at taking no for an answer."

"Mm," she made a noncommittal sound. Was she being unfair and paranoid to suspect Meredith of acting deliberately? Meredith didn't exactly come off as some mastermind but on the other hand, Castle had once loved her (right?) and as Kate well knew, Castle wasn't a man who liked stupid women so Meredith had to be smart enough in her own way. Besides, Kate had seen enough of the world to realize that it didn't take a lot of intelligence for attractive women to learn how to use their looks to their advantage, to manipulate men (made easier by the way so many men turned into idiots when attractive women were around).

"I wasn't going to let her stay here now," he blurted out with odd emphasis.

"I know," she answered easily. That much, at least, she did know. Castle had already called the Plaza Hotel to arrange for Meredith's room before she'd arrived—and when he hadn't known Kate was coming over. Besides, she trusted him.

It was Meredith she didn't trust. But whatever Kate's sentiments Meredith-ward, what really mattered was Alexis.

"Alexis must have been happy to see her mom, though," Kate ventured.

She felt Castle's glance but kept her eyes on her glass of wine. Alexis's happiness was the important thing.

And anyway, it wasn't like she was trying to become Alexis's mom.

"Yes, she was," he answered but then sighed, taking a large gulp of his wine to finish off the glass. When he went on, his voice was quieter, sadder. "But I worry because I think that Alexis is… cautious about feeling happy to see Meredith. Her happiness is… diluted, if that's the word for it, like even though she's happy, she's still bracing herself for when Meredith will leave, the next time Meredith will break a promise."

Oh god. Kate caught her breath at the sudden spasm of pain clutching her heart. Not just at the thought of Alexis feeling like that but because the description sounded so familiar. Because that was how Kate felt too, still, always, even when she was happy. And it was just so unutterably _wrong_ and so painful to think of Alexis feeling like that.

Alexis was so young, too young, to feel such a thing. And she was such a cheerful kid.

There was so much sadness and worry in Castle's voice that it hurt her to hear it.

"Alexis is fine," she assured him. "She's happy and confident and optimistic and she'll stay that way because she has you. Remember how happy she was just last weekend at the Hamptons? She was almost as excited to play in the pool as you were," she teased gently, wanting to make him smile. It was true too since Castle had been characteristically exuberant, taking the lead in making a show of falling into the pool and tugging Kate along with him and then splashing at Alexis to make her come join them.

His expression eased into a smile. "She did have fun last weekend but she's always happy to spend time with you."

"Spending time with Alexis makes me happy too but you're her dad. You're the one who's raised her to be what she is and you're the one who'll make sure that Alexis is fine, even after Meredith's visit this weekend."

He sighed a little. "I know. I just… hate whenever Alexis is hurt and having Meredith around is stressful."

Having met the woman, that wasn't surprising but she could see that Castle was brooding and while she understood (and empathized with) his worry over Alexis, Alexis was fine now and there was nothing he could really do. So she set out to distract him, pressing herself more tightly against him and leaning up to feather her lips against his chin and along his jaw until she husked into his ear, "I could help you relax," and nipped lightly at his earlobe to make her point clear, just in case he needed it.

She felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath before he turned to look at her, his eyes already darkening with arousal. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"We could have more wine, watch a movie, or…" she trailed off, letting her fingers ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck in a way she knew he liked.

He huffed a soft laugh that was swallowed by her mouth as they finally kissed, hot and deep. His searching hands found the hem of her shirt, tugging it out of her slacks, so his fingers could find bare skin and she gasped into his mouth.

"Castle," she managed to pant when his lips left hers to skim along her jaw. "Bedroom."

"Yeah," he groaned and obeyed, scrambling to his feet and pulling her up with him so they could stumble towards his bedroom, their lips and hands still occupied, even though their mutual distraction slowed their progress towards his bedroom.

But they made it eventually, falling onto his bed, forgetful of any worries or any thoughts of anything at all that didn't involve the two of them, just him and her, together.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Writing Meredith is hard, not least because I hate her, but I will leave it to you all to judge how she came out. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	39. Chapter 39

Author's Note: A long chapter, in which there's more Meredith.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 39_

Thanks to being in the middle of a case, Kate had to leave for work long before Meredith arrived the next morning to pick up Alexis, sparing her from another meeting with the woman, at least for a while. Less fortunately, being in the middle of a case meant she had to leave before Alexis was even awake.

Castle peeled himself out of bed at the same ridiculously early hour as she had to, although she suspected he was going to crawl right back into bed and fall asleep the moment she left, only shrugging into a robe before he accompanied her to the door. He was awake enough to pout a little. "You sure you can't stay, keep me company today while Alexis is out?"

She kissed his bristly cheek. "I'm in the middle of a case. I have to work."

He heaved an exaggerated put-upon sigh. "Fine. You go rid the city of evil-doers and leave me here all alone."

She snickered. Such a writer. Barely awake and still able to spout phrases like 'rid the city of evil-doers.' She patted his chest in mock commiseration. "I think you'll survive."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a grown-up. I can handle it."

She smirked at him. "You're a grown-up, huh? Since when?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, curving his hand around her waist to bring her closer to him. "Oh, Beckett, I think I proved to you last night that I'm all grown up but I'll be happy to demonstrate again."

Tempting. But she had a case, she reminded herself sternly. She could not simply fall back into bed with Castle, even as her body automatically fit itself against his, her mouth opening for his kiss.

She broke off the kiss after just a couple seconds, forcing herself to step back. "Castle, I have a case."

He sighed a little but relented, only leaning in to peck a last kiss on her cheek this time. "I know. Go, Beckett, do your hero thing."

She smiled again, couldn't help it. "I'm not a hero."

"Yes, you are," he contradicted, "you—" but at that he stopped talking, his eyes going unfocused.

She waited—it wasn't the first time Castle had gotten a little distracted—but this time, his distraction lasted a little longer than usual and finally, she prodded, "Castle."

"Huh, what?" he blinked and looked at her again.

"I need to leave for work," she told him since he still looked not entirely present.

"Right, right. See you tonight?" he asked hopefully. There was her Castle again.

"Yes, I'll see you tonight. After all," she added teasingly, "I promised Alexis I'd see her today and she's the one I like to see the most."

For once, though, he didn't really react to her teasing, only gave her one of the soft smiles he occasionally gifted her with when she mentioned Alexis.

She returned his smile and patted his chest again, in lieu of kissing him, less temptation that way. "Bye, Castle."

"See you tonight."

With that, she left, sternly pushing all thoughts of Castle and Alexis out of her mind as she stopped off to get a large coffee and a bear claw before going to the precinct. With any luck, they could solve the case today, which would make tomorrow easier. It was always tough to have a case unresolved over a Sunday because most businesses were closed and it was harder to get a hold of any witnesses or persons of interest.

Fortunately, they did in fact manage to solve the case that day after they caught one of the victim's co-workers in a lie about the reason for a dispute the co-worker had with the victim although by the time they got the confession, it was well after dinner time and all Kate had managed to grab to eat since her quick lunch break was a granola bar and a banana she'd kept in her desk.

Hassan gave her a nod as he signed the paperwork to get the killer transferred to Central Booking the next morning. "Nice job, Beckett. Now go home. We can take care of the paperwork tomorrow."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, sir."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Enough with the 'sir' all the time, Beckett. It's not necessary."

"Have a good night, sir," she tacked the appellation on by force of habit and Hassan cracked a smile as he shook his head a little.

"Good night, Detective."

Kate was glad to be able to gather up her things and head straight to the loft. There was always plenty of food there so she didn't bother stopping to pick anything up on the way. (She really was getting spoiled.) She only wondered whether Meredith would have dropped Alexis off from their day out yet since it was nearing Alexis's bedtime.

Meredith hadn't. As Kate discovered the moment Castle opened the door at her knock and for the first time in her memory, looked, if not disappointed that it was her, less than usually pleased. He only said, "Oh, it's you," although the words were softened by a quick kiss and a smile that faded almost immediately to be replaced with a frown as he peered out the door towards the elevator as if willing it to open, revealing his daughter. The elevator unsurprisingly did not respond to the power of Castle's gaze and he grimaced before closing the door again.

"Alexis isn't home yet," Kate ventured, not quite a question.

Castle sighed, pulling Kate into his arms and pressing a kiss to her hair. "No, she's not. And Meredith isn't answering her cell phone even though I've tried calling three times in the last hour." He lifted his head and kissed her more lingeringly, drawing back to give her a small smile. "Hi, by the way. I didn't mean to make it seem like I'm not thrilled you're here."

She returned his smile. "It's fine, Castle. I understand." She gave him a look of mock pleading. "I didn't have a chance to eat because of work so can you feed me while you talk to me?"

His smile widened and he dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. "Of course. I would never want it to be said that I left a woman unsatisfied."

She snorted. Trust Castle to turn an offer of food into an innuendo, even when he was preoccupied with worry over his daughter. "Still worrying over your reputation among women for when you go back to your life as an eligible bachelor?" she needled, biting back a smile.

His eyes widened as he gave her a look of dismay. "What, no! Kate, I didn't mean it like that!"

She gave him a smile. "I know, Castle, I was just teasing."

He didn't look entirely reassured, returning to slip his arms around her waist. "I don't want to go back to that life, you know that, right, Kate? You're the only woman I'm interested in and I can't imagine that ever changing."

His blue eyes were serious as they held hers and she felt her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. It was, perhaps, the most direct declaration of how serious he was about their relationship, about the future of their relationship. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? It wasn't a surprise and it wasn't as if she wanted anything different. Rick Castle had made it so she couldn't imagine wanting anyone else ever again. For the first time, she was in a relationship that felt permanent. (God, when had she started to think like this? And she couldn't help the stab of panic because she couldn't believe she could stay this happy for long or be this lucky... She just couldn't. Could she?)

"I—uh—the feeling's mutual," she managed to say, her voice not sounding like herself.

The faintest of smiles touched his lips as he bent to kiss her, softly. "Good," he said quietly and then released her, stepping back, and went on with a complete change of tone, "I'd hate to have to worry about any rivals among the hot cops. I've seen those NYPD calendars you guys release."

She sputtered a laugh, the tightness of emotion in her chest easing at his deliberately silly words. Oh this man, how did he know, how did he do it, know when to make things easier with humor?

"Oh but you're forgetting, Castle, I can think of one thing that gives you an advantage," she drawled.

"A house in the Hamptons?" he suggested lightly.

"No," she drew the word out slowly and gave him a deliberately sultry look before finishing, "Your strong, seductive... tiramisu."

He choked a little and then let out what she could only describe as a guffaw. "Why, thank you, Beckett," he finally managed to gasp, "that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She grinned at him. "See, never say I don't give you any compliments."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He threw her a last smile before he opened up the fridge, clearing his throat before he went on, "What would you like? There's still some pasta from dinner yesterday or the pizza I had for lunch or there's plenty of sandwich fixings, if that's what you're in the mood for."

"The pasta's fine, thanks."

"Coming right up."

He started to reheat the pasta, only to pause at the sound of a clock chiming, and Kate didn't need to count the chimes to realize it was 9 o'clock. Alexis's bedtime and Alexis was still not home.

The ease from their teasing abruptly left as Castle directed a scowl at the clock on the stove, as if it were personally responsible for Meredith's keeping Alexis out late.

Kate slipped off her chair and moved to wrap her arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his spine even as he curved into her embrace. "It's just 9 now," she began soothingly. "And Alexis doesn't turn into a pumpkin for real if she's not in bed exactly at the stroke of 9."

He huffed something that was almost but not quite a laugh at that. "I know. I just… don't trust Meredith."

"They've probably just gone to get dessert after dinner and are running a little late."

He snorted. "I hope you're right," he muttered darkly.

Castle's tension didn't seem to have abated at all but Kate wasn't sure what other assurances she could make. She didn't know all the history between Castle and Meredith and Alexis, didn't really know Meredith or what she was capable of at all.

And she was a cop, had seen too much of the worst that could happen when loved ones did not appear when expected.

She shoved the thought away the moment it materialized. No, no, she wasn't going to start thinking like that. Alexis was fine; nothing was going to happen to her. And Kate was only being morbid. There was no reason—none at all—to think that Meredith running late in bringing Alexis home was going to end badly.

And she was trying to comfort Castle, not make him freak out even more.

"How about this," she suggested, keeping her voice even, "if Meredith and Alexis aren't back in the next hour or so, I'll call up the precinct, call in a favor."

He jolted a little and turned to stare at her. "Kate, I—you would do that? Wouldn't it sort of be an abuse of police power?"

Technically, yes, but she found she had no qualms about her impulsive offer. "I'd do it for Alexis." And him.

His expression changed in some indefinable way and then he abruptly bent and kissed her briefly but with enough passion that her lips felt seared. "Thank you."

They both started at the sound of a beep as the pasta finished reheating and he carried the pasta over to the island while Kate grabbed a fork and poured herself a glass of water before resuming her seat to eat, somewhat mechanically. Her free hand rested on Castle's back, rubbing it in circles that were meant to be soothing but didn't seem to be having a noticeable effect in reducing his tension.

"The last time Meredith visited unexpectedly a little over a year ago, she took Alexis to Paris," Castle blurted out suddenly.

Kate froze, her fork pausing in mid-air, as she stared. "Without telling you? She didn't. She can't do that!" Meredith had done what? Kate was no expert but she was relatively sure that it was technically illegal for Meredith to take Alexis out of the country without telling Castle, interfering with his custodial rights.

Castle's lips twisted. "Amazingly, that never occurred to Meredith. She just thought it would be 'fun' to take Alexis to Paris for dinner and so she did, hopping on a private jet owned by a friend of hers."

Oh god. Castle must have been distraught. Oh, no wonder Alexis had asked her mom if they were going to be leaving the city. And Meredith had acted as if it was a ridiculous question—except Alexis already knew that Meredith was quite capable of it. And so did Castle, which explained his tension. Taking Alexis to Paris—it would have taken all day just to get there pretty much, a full day or more where Castle would not have known where Alexis was. Just the thought made her heart clench.

"It was the worst day of my life," Castle stated flatly. The stark simplicity of the statement revealed just how serious Castle was. This wasn't his usual penchant for hyperbole or melodrama. By now, she knew when Castle was serious and when he was playing things up.

"But Alexis was fine," Kate prompted gently.

His expression eased just a little. "Yeah, she was exhausted when Meredith brought her back the next day, but otherwise she was fine." His expression darkened. "Alexis was upset at first, because she saw that I was so angry and she thought that I was mad at her too, that she might have done something bad in agreeing to go, but she was okay once I assured her over and over again that I wasn't angry at her at all and she hadn't done anything wrong." He paused and went on more grimly, "Meredith and I had a knock-down drag-out fight after that, the worst fight we've ever had honestly. I didn't even talk to her for a couple months afterward."

She couldn't blame him for that; she wouldn't have blamed him if he'd never talked to Meredith again. No wonder he was so worried now. And Kate was even more willing to call for police help if Meredith didn't bring Alexis back soon. "I don't know how you forgave her," she murmured.

"I forgave Meredith for Alexis's sake. Because Alexis still loves her and wants to see her and Meredith might not be anyone's idea of a great mother but she is the only mother Alexis has and I'm not going to take that away."

He was such a good dad. Such a good man. She leaned in to kiss him softly, letting her lips linger over his until he parted his lips, shifting closer to her. She couldn't help but feel a flicker of pleasure that her kisses helped him relax, distracted him, so effectively.

She ended the kiss slowly, somewhat reluctantly, and drew back to see that his eyes looked a little hazy and with some lingering worry but he was no longer quite so distressed. She was able to finish eating her pasta in peace and was just putting the bowl into the dishwasher when there was a knock on the door and her eyes flew to Castle to see him briefly shut his eyes before he almost flew across the room to fling open the door, while Kate followed.

It was Alexis. Kate let out a breath in relief, not even realizing how worried she had been herself until she saw the little girl who moved straight into Castle's arms.

"Hi, Daddy. 'M sorry we're late," she mumbled a little tiredly.

Castle hugged his daughter, kissing her hair. "That's okay, sweetie. I'm just glad you're home."

Alexis nodded against his shoulder, yawning a little. "Tired," she sighed. She blinked a few times and then gave Kate a rather sleepy smile. "Hi, Kate."

Castle released the girl, who shuffled towards Kate to hug her, leaning into Kate more than she usually did. Yeah, Alexis needed her bed. Kate kept an arm around the girl's shoulders as Alexis rested against her as she turned to look back at Meredith. "Thanks for taking me out today, Mommy."

Meredith gave Alexis a bright smile. "Oh, of course, darling. We had such fun, didn't we?"

Meredith turned to look at Castle, her expression now appealing. "I've already talked to Alexis but I got a call from my agent this morning and he wants to see me first thing Monday morning so I booked a flight leaving tomorrow around noon."

"You said you were spending the whole weekend with Alexis," Castle responded, sounding tired rather than surprised or angry.

"I know, kitten, but you know how it is. My agent said that he's been talking with ABC and they want me to come in and audition for one of the regulars on one of their new fall shows. This could be a big break for me, Richard."

"Good luck, then," Castle said flatly.

Meredith knelt and opened her arms to Alexis who moved into them. "We had a great time today, didn't we, darling, and you do understand why Mommy needs to leave tomorrow, right?"

Alexis nodded. "Yes, I understand. Bye, Mommy."

"Bye, darling." Meredith kissed Alexis's cheek, wiped away a smudge of lipstick, and then stood up, lifting her face towards Castle, her lips parted invitingly.

Kate stiffened but Castle only gave Meredith the briefest peck on the cheek, leaving Meredith to blink a little. "Bye, Meredith."

The woman recovered quickly, Kate had to give her that, turning a bright smile towards Kate. "Oh Kate, I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to get to know you better on this visit but I suppose there'll be plenty of chances for us to spend some time together in future. It was lovely to have met you finally."

Kate forced a smile. "It was nice to meet you too. Have a safe trip tomorrow."

"Do take care of yourself, Kate." Meredith bent and gave Alexis another quick hug and a kiss. "Have a good night, baby girl. I'll see you again soon, okay, darling?"

"Night, Mommy."

With a flutter of her fingers, Meredith breezed out the door and Castle immediately turned to Alexis. "Do you want me to carry you up to bed, pumpkin?"

Alexis yawned even as she shook her head. "I can walk, Daddy."

The girl did make it up the stairs on her own but her steps were slower than usual and Castle kept a protective hand on her shoulder while Kate followed with the large shopping bag that must contain the spoils of the day.

She did spare a moment to wonder how and when it had started to feel so… natural to be going upstairs with Castle to put Alexis to bed. She and Castle worked together to put away Alexis's new clothes and idly straighten up the girl's already-neat room while Alexis changed into her pajamas and completed her nightly ablutions. Soon enough, Alexis was tucked into bed, her eyes closing almost the moment her head hit the pillow.

Castle lingered, seemed reluctant to leave, and Kate remembered what he'd told her about needing to sleep in Alexis's room sometimes after nightmares. And after being so worried over Alexis for so long today, she could imagine he didn't quite want to let her out of his sight so fast now. So she brushed a kiss to his cheek, murmured that she'd be downstairs, and then left him to watch his daughter sleep.

Castle came down again in about half an hour when Kate was curled up on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine, and she was glad to see that he looked himself again, if a little tired. "Alexis okay?"

"Yeah, she's sound asleep."

"Good."

They chatted in idle fashion and it was later, when they were curled up together in bed that Kate finally ventured to ask, "Will you tell me what happened between you and Meredith?"

She was almost sorry she'd asked when he tensed and then sighed. "I suppose it's time I do." He didn't say anything more for a long minute and then after a while, he began, his voice low and oddly expressionless. "We met through my mother, as you could probably guess. Meredith was still trying to make it on Broadway. We'd been together for a few months when she got pregnant so I proposed because I wanted my baby to have the real family I never had and, well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time." He paused. "Obviously, it wasn't."

He broke off again and then went on. "It wasn't bad at first. Meredith likes being the center of attention so she enjoyed that aspect of pregnancy," he added with a faintly sardonic edge to his tone. "And then Alexis came along," his expression softened, his voice becoming ineffably tender, as his eyes focused absently on a picture of Alexis on the dresser and she guessed he was remembering Alexis as a baby. "She was—still is—so perfect… I used to watch her sleep and feel so amazed that this adorable, miraculous thing could be mine…"

She smiled faintly. Yes, she could imagine. A young Castle, so completely besotted with his baby.

"I was so happy. Exhausted and a little terrified at least half the time since I had no idea what I was doing but happy. Meredith… wasn't." He blinked, his expression becoming bleak. "She stuck around for the first few months but then… she got bored, wanted to revive her career. I wanted her to be happy and I could write from home so it worked for a while but then…"

He stopped again and then abruptly catapulted out of bed, surging to his feet.

"Castle?"

He turned to look at her, breathing hard and fast as if he'd been running a race. "I'm not avoiding answering. I'll be back. I just… need to check on Alexis," he blurted out and then he was gone.

Kate sat up, settling her back against the headboard, a small chill slithering through her. Not because she didn't think Castle would be back but because his reaction, the way he needed to check on Alexis again—this was going to be bad. Worse than she'd thought. And it was something he didn't want Alexis to hear.

Castle returned in a few minutes, looking somewhat calmer as he rejoined her in the bed but this time, he was stiff, sat up straight and kept a decorous space between their bodies. And he didn't look at her.

It was another minute before he finally spoke, his voice so quiet she almost had to strain to hear it. "One day, I had to go to a meeting at Black Pawn. Meredith said she had to rehearse so my mother took Alexis for the day. My meeting ended early for once. I came home." His sentences were staccato, jerky, unlike him. "I heard voices. From the bedroom. I walked in. It was Meredith and the director of the play. In our bed."

Oh god. Kate's breath stuttered in her chest. Meredith had cheated on him? Was she crazy? Who could possibly cheat on Rick Castle?

"Not this bed," he abruptly added. "I changed my entire bedroom set after Meredith left."

He paused and then went on. "The director was embarrassed. Meredith wasn't. He left. We argued. And she said… 'I don't know why you're so upset. You're no fun anymore anyway. All you want to do is stay at home with Alexis.'"

Kate definitely hated Meredith. No, she loathed Meredith. Detested Meredith. Her joke about hiring thugs to beat Meredith up returned to her and struck her as having a lot of merit. And the next time she went to the firing range, she might find a picture of Meredith somewhere and use it as the target.

Wait. Meredith had cheated on him and Kate doubted it was only the once. Did that mean Alexis… Not that she cared.

"She's _mine_ ," Castle blurted out forcefully, although his voice was still preternaturally quiet. She hadn't asked, would never have asked, but he guessed or something. "I checked. Not because I cared. I don't think I could love Alexis any less even if I tried but I had to, in case Meredith or anyone else ever tried to take her away from me." He paused. "Alexis doesn't know. She'll never know. My mother doesn't know."

Kate felt her lungs seize again. He really trusted her. Telling her something no one else knew. A secret shared like this was a bond between two people. It was… a vow. One she would keep.

"She left. Moved to LA. But she gave me Alexis and she was all that mattered."

He was being uncharacteristically reckless with his pronouns but this wasn't a story he was writing or a story he was comfortable telling.

"I didn't—it didn't break my heart," he added jerkily and finished, more quietly, "It's just been Alexis and me ever since." He paused and then added, so softly it almost seemed he was talking to himself, "Until now."

Her heart fluttered wildly in spite of herself. _Until now_. He meant _her_. "How old was Alexis?" Kate managed to ask through the tightness in her throat.

"Around 3."

Castle really had raised Alexis alone her entire life, hadn't he, if Meredith had left when Alexis was so young.

Wait. Another thought occurred to her. If Alexis had been 3 years old… Oh. Oh _Castle_. Kate abruptly decided that the episode of Castle stealing the police horse wasn't funny anymore. That had happened months after Meredith had left, when their divorce would have become final, she guessed. After Meredith had accused him of not being any fun anymore. Oh, she understood now, possibly more than Castle realized. He might insist his heart hadn't been broken but he had cared (what man wouldn't?). And he'd been trying to prove Meredith wrong. It might not have been deliberate and it wasn't the most mature response, perhaps, but it was an understandable one. A young man who'd been betrayed and abandoned so carelessly, so callously. Of course he would have been hurt, even doubted himself, and set out to prove that he could still be 'fun,' could be wanted. And so he had. The police horse incident, his drunk and disorderly arrests, his playboy reputation.

She didn't doubt that Castle had enjoyed himself in those years and she imagined Black Pawn encouraged the publicity for the book sales aspect of it but she had wondered, since meeting him, because the real man she'd gotten to know had not fit his reputation. The man who appeared to be happiest at home with his daughter just didn't match the celebrity playboy image.

But now she understood.

Kate didn't put any of this into words and Castle had been silent but after a moment, he went on, somewhat to Kate's surprise, his voice different now, resigned maybe.

"Meredith isn't malicious. I know she—she's not a saint and she's irritating but she's not a bad person."

Was he—he was defending her?

"She's impulsive and irresponsible and self-absorbed but the way she acts, the things she does, it's not to be mean. She just… never thinks about consequences and she only sees things her way but it's not—"

"Why are you defending her?" Kate burst out, interrupting him. "After what she did? What she does?"

He blinked and hesitated but finally answered, almost reluctantly, "She's Alexis's mother. And well, I did marry her and… thought I loved her…"

Her irritation died as quickly as it had arisen. And she abruptly closed the distance between them, moving until she was sitting on his lap facing him, although for once, there was nothing sexual about the position. He stiffened in surprise but seemed hesitant to meet her eyes. "Rick." The use of his first name did the trick, his eyes jerking to meet hers. She cupped his cheeks with her hands. "Rick," she repeated more softly, "why do you think knowing about you and Meredith will make me think less of you?"

"Because… I do," he admitted, the words seeming pulled from him. "I was… irresponsible, careless. Stupid. I was the one who married her, trusted her." He paused and then added more quietly, "I told Meredith where I kept Alexis's passport."

Oh, this man. This silly, good man. Her throat felt tight with emotion. That he would doubt himself, this man who had longed for a "real family" and tried so hard to take care of his baby and make his wife happy only to be betrayed and abandoned—and he had still succeeded in giving his daughter a loving, stable home and family, even in spite of Meredith. This man, who cared so much about her opinion of him. "You're right; knowing about you and Meredith does change my opinion of you," she told him quietly. He didn't quite slump but his head lowered almost imperceptibly, his eyes falling. "Rick." He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she smiled, hoped he could see all she felt in her eyes because, as usual, she really didn't have the words. "Knowing all this makes me like you more."

His smile was like a sunrise, starting in his eyes and then spreading to illuminate his expression in a way that had her heart fluttering wildly. It just never stopped being amazing that she had the power to make him look so happy, that just a few (lame) words from her mattered so much to him. She slid her arms around his neck and leaned in until their mouths met, melded, one kiss blurring into two and then three, although by some unspoken agreement, they both kept the kisses soft, gently exploratory rather than passionate.

Afterward, she rested her forehead against his. "You are an amazing man, you know that?" she whispered. He really was. He might be the best man she'd ever met. Her throat, her entire chest, felt tight with emotion, as if she simply couldn't contain all she felt. It was too much, too intense, and she abruptly needed to break through the emotion, fell back on humor or at least something close to it. "And anyone who would cheat on you has to be insane."

That did the trick, his eyes clearing as a brief not-quite-laugh escaped him. "I know, right? I'm so charming and ruggedly handsome," he pretended to preen.

That was more like her Castle and she allowed herself to quirk her eyebrows at him teasingly. "And so vain too," she needled.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Well, you did say you like me more now so I can't be that bad."

She returned his smirk. "Not that bad, no," she deadpanned.

"I take it back, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he joked.

She muffled her laugh against his shoulder, her heart lifting at this sign that his humor had been revived, and he abruptly tightened his arms around her in a hug that pushed the breath from her lungs.

"Thank you, Kate," he breathed against her hair.

She lifted her head to smile softly into his eyes. "No thanks necessary. We're partners, aren't we?" The word came naturally to her lips, the cop term somehow feeling right. He might not be a cop but in all other ways, he was on her side, supported her. Maybe that was what being in a real relationship meant, this sense that you always had someone who was in your corner, had your back. It wasn't something she was used to in her life but she was getting there, she thought, really starting to trust and believe that it was true. She wasn't alone anymore because she had Castle now.

His lips lifted. "Partners," he agreed. "I like it, it makes me sound like a cop."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't entirely keep her smile from escaping. Trust Castle to see it like that. It was his turn to lean in so he could taste her smile and she melted into his kiss the way she always did.

Afterwards, by some unspoken agreement, they rearranged themselves in bed, lying down once again with her snugly tucked against his side, her head resting on his shoulder and one arm slung across his chest.

And also by some unspoken agreement, they shelved any more serious conversation for another time and only exchanged a few desultory comments, talked about their respective weeks, and later, she drifted to sleep with the sound of his heartbeat steady and soothing against her ear. Her last fuzzy thought was that somehow, falling asleep with him like this felt even more intimate than love-making.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: And that's the story of Meredith, at least as I've fleshed it out in my head. I hope it seems to fit.

Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	40. Chapter 40

Author's Note: This is something of a transitional chapter and perhaps for that reason, it was a hard one to write and I'm still not sure how well it came out but I hope you all enjoy it nevertheless.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 40_

Castle kept a careful eye on Alexis the next morning over breakfast but his daughter appeared to be her usual self, refreshed from her night's sleep and now quite cheerful again as she told him and Kate about her day yesterday with Meredith, talking about the shopping they had done. She volunteered to put on a little fashion show later that evening to show them the new clothes Meredith had bought for her (using his money, but Castle left that unsaid) and allowed Kate to admire the sparkly turquoise nail polish she had picked out for the manicure Meredith had taken her to get.

Over the course of breakfast, he allowed himself to relax. Alexis appeared to have taken Meredith's brief reappearance in her life in stride and as far as he could judge, didn't appear to be overly disappointed that Meredith was leaving today and she wasn't going to be seeing her again on this particular visit. Castle strongly suspected that Meredith had somehow arranged an excuse to leave early on finding out that Alexis already had plans for this afternoon. It was the sort of thing Meredith would do in her ploy to be the center of the world; she never liked having to admit that either he or Alexis might have things in their lives that didn't involve her. So when they did have prior commitments, Meredith usually one-upped them and invented a commitment of her own so that she wouldn't be free either. Not that Castle would ever say such a thing in front of Alexis but he tried never to say anything negative about Meredith in Alexis's hearing. A resolve that Meredith seemed to make a point of testing.

Not for the first time, he wondered just how stupid he could be, what he'd ever seen in Meredith. Okay, the sex had been good but he would like to think he wasn't so shallow that he would have thought he loved Meredith just for that. If that was an example of his judgment in women or people in general…

But on the other hand, there was Kate.

On the thought, Castle's eyes moved to rest on Kate, his lips curving into an involuntary smile, warmth filling his chest. Sometimes, like now, he could not believe how he had gotten so lucky to have a woman like Kate in his bed, in his life. She was so… generous, gave so much of herself, her kindness, her compassion, to others and seemed to expect so little from everyone else.

So entirely unlike Meredith.

But he found that some of the lingering bitterness, the guilt, attached to the thought of Meredith seemed to have dissipated. It had not been easy to tell Kate about his first marriage; there was a reason he almost never talked about it or tried to make a joke about it when he referred to Meredith at all because he always felt that the story made him sound like a naïve, gullible fool, at best. For that matter, he felt like an idiot himself when he thought about Meredith and he never forgot, whenever Meredith hurt Alexis's feelings, that it was his fault that Alexis didn't have a reliable mother.

Maybe he had not intentionally chosen Meredith to be the mother of his child but the fact remained that he had trusted Meredith and he was the one who made such an effort to include Meredith in Alexis's life. He had made a point of introducing Meredith at Alexis's school, put her on the list of people who were allowed to pick Alexis up and take her out of school, along with himself and his mother. Certainly Meredith herself had never shown the slightest sign of interest in even knowing much about Alexis's daily life; if left to Meredith, she wouldn't have even known where Alexis's school was. But Meredith never had been interested in the not-so-fun, mundane aspects of parenting. When Alexis had been a baby, Meredith had been willing to play with Alexis and coo over her at times but the messy stuff—the dirty diapers, the midnight feedings, the doctor's visits (that almost inevitably involved a shrieking Alexis)—Meredith had never wanted to be involved with any of that. But he couldn't help but be aware of the fact that almost every other kid in the school had involved mothers; even the ones from broken homes usually lived with their moms. He never wanted Alexis to feel different or left out so he tried to involve Meredith in Alexis's life to the extent he could.

It was the definition of insanity, wasn't it, doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. That was what he did when it came to Meredith, or so it seemed. But he reminded himself, yet again, that he was doing it for Alexis's sake. Being a fool for Alexis, he would do.

But it didn't mean he was necessarily proud of it either. He didn't think anything about his association with Meredith reflected well on him.

But Kate hadn't thought so.

He remembered again not just Kate's words but the warmth in her eyes, her smile, that had made his chest flood with responding warmth. Her words might have been about liking him but her voice, her eyes, had spoken of much more than that. And he hadn't spent so much time with Kate over the last months not to have learned that her spoken words tended to be just the tip of the iceberg where her feelings were concerned. The way she looked at him, touched him, he had to believe she loved him. Still, even after knowing about him and Meredith.

Kate glanced at him, catching his eyes, and he wasn't sure what she saw in his expression but the color deepened in her cheeks in a blush even as she returned his smile before returning her attention to Alexis.

"Oh, Kate," Alexis chirped, "will you be busy on Friday afternoon?"

Castle straightened slowly, instantly understanding Alexis's question or rather, the significance of it.

"I'm not sure, Alexis," Kate answered easily. "I'll probably need to work. Why do you ask?"

"Because Friday is Open House Day at my school and I want you to come too. Will you, Kate?"

"Open House Day?" Kate repeated, turning questioning eyes to him.

"It's something Alexis's school does at the end of the school year," he explained. "It's basically an Open House for family and friends. There are some exhibits of artwork and science projects and things like that and they present various awards to the students, the choir performs a few songs, and some other students give presentations and things."

"Yeah and this year, I'll be reciting a poem," Alexis added. "And I really want you to be there."

"What time will it be?"

"Well, the open house itself basically starts at the end of the school day so people can come in to talk to the teachers and look at the exhibits, that sort of thing, from 2:30 or so but the actual presentations don't really start until later, at 5," he answered.

"And afterwards, we go out to dinner," Alexis chimed in. "Please say you'll come, Kate."

Castle imagined Kate would have to work (for that matter, she was going to be leaving for work just after breakfast was over and it was a Sunday so the likelihood that Kate would be free on a Friday afternoon seemed slim) but he carefully kept silent. And he was momentarily unsure that he could speak even if he wanted to, with his throat tight, his heart stuttering in his chest, at the significance of Alexis's invitation.

He was rewarded as Kate smiled at Alexis. "Well, I would hate to miss you reciting a poem so I'll talk to Captain Montgomery and see if he'll let me leave work a little early on Friday."

Castle smiled as Alexis lit up, his heart lifting, filling with gratitude to the universe for this amazing woman, who was so good to his daughter. He remembered what Alexis had said, that she loved Kate more than she loved Meredith, and he couldn't help but think that this was exactly why. Kate was there for Alexis in a way that Meredith was not and it didn't even have to do with proximity so much as it was effort. Even with how busy her work schedule was, Kate made time for Alexis, in a way that Meredith never did.

Castle himself would obviously be going to Open House Day just as he went to every one of Alexis's school events but even he could not say that the event held much appeal for him, aside from Alexis's small role. An elementary school event of this sort was not exactly riveting entertainment. The open house might technically be open to anyone with a connection to the school but there was a reason that as far as Castle knew, the only people who attended were family members of the students, parents, grandparents, and sometimes siblings (who were usually bored and didn't try to hide it). It was the sort of thing Meredith wouldn't have attended short of his bribing her with some outrageous sum of money.

And Castle had always been alone in going to Alexis's school events. Every Back-to-School night, every parent-teacher conference, every school play. His mother had accompanied him once to an Open House Day but other than that, it had always been only him. And now, Alexis had invited Kate.

The idea of Alexis wanting someone else to go to her school events was still a little strange to him, hurt in an indefinable sort of way that he might not be enough for Alexis on his own. But it was also good, he reminded himself.

It occurred to him belatedly that this—Kate—might be why Alexis had been able to accept Meredith's brief visit and her early departure with such calm. He was always aware—none more so―that there was a large gap in Alexis's life left by Meredith's absence, a gap that he himself could never fill, no matter how he tried. But now, he could see that the gap was, if not completely gone (maybe it could never be completely gone) but it was, at least, smaller now, partially filled. And that was because of Kate. Kate, who had spent Mother's Day with Alexis after Meredith had broken yet another promise to visit. Kate, who had helped Alexis study for a spelling quiz and praised her for her high score. Kate, who had agreed to go to Open House Day with him.

It wasn't the same but he thought, hoped, that it helped.

"Oh, thank you, Kate! And you'll come to dinner with us afterwards?" Alexis asked eagerly.

"Of course. As long as I can get out of work, there's no point in leaving early and then not having dinner."

Alexis beamed. "Oh goody! It's going to be great!"

Kate returned Alexis's smile, reaching out to brush an errant strand of Alexis's hair away from her face. "I think so too but now, I need to be leaving for work."

Alexis's smile dimmed a little but she didn't protest. "Will you come over tonight?"

"Well, I'm having dinner with my dad but I'll come over once dinner is done," Kate agreed. "After all, I want to see you try on your new clothes," she added.

Alexis dimpled. "Okay. Have a good day at work, Kate!"

Kate bent to drop a quick kiss on Alexis's hair as she stood up, the ease of the gesture catching at him. It looked almost absent-minded except that Kate Beckett wasn't the sort who acted entirely without thought. And the very naturalness of the gesture spoke volumes for how well Kate meshed into his family, how much Kate accepted her importance in Alexis's life.

Kate was not naturally physically demonstrative, was not only emotionally but also physically reticent. He had not forgotten the faint flicker of surprise on her face the first few times Alexis had hugged her and for the most part, Kate did not initiate gestures of affection, although she had proven to be much more, well, cuddly than he'd expected. (He made a mental note never to use the word in Kate's hearing, though, in order to avoid being maimed.) But now, here she was, kissing Alexis's hair in much the same way he might do the same thing.

The thought, all it meant, caught at his mind until he almost forgot to grab what he meant to give Kate from the drawer but he remembered in time as he leaped up to accompany Kate to the door.

He held her light jacket up for her to slip on and then turned her around to kiss her quickly. "We're meeting up with my mother for dinner tonight so we may not be home when you finish your dinner with your dad so just in case," he told her, offering her what he'd retrieved to give her.

She blinked. "You're giving me a key."

"Nice observation, Detective."

She narrowed her eyes at him and he repented the mild sarcasm, hurrying on. "I have to admit that I have ulterior motives in giving you a key. This way, the next time you get called to work at some ungodly hour, I won't need to get out of bed to lock the door after you. You can just slip out whenever you need to."

She studied him while he widened his eyes in a look of innocence. And then after a moment, she relented and closed her hand around the key. "I guess that makes sense," she agreed, not exactly eagerly but she'd agreed and that was more than enough for him.

He sternly suppressed the urge to pump his fist or otherwise celebrate. He hadn't wanted to make this seem like a big deal but he knew it was and he knew Kate would understand its significance too. He'd never even dreamed of giving a key to a girlfriend before, not to his home, the one place he was always himself, the place he tried to keep reserved for his family. His mother was the only other person besides himself who had a key.

But Kate was different. She was… family. And she had accepted that she should have a key to his loft. And for the moment, that was enough.

* * *

The following Saturday again saw Kate placing herself at Alexis's disposal. She was on call this weekend so even if she didn't physically need to go into the precinct, if a body dropped, she had to be ready to go. But when Alexis had asked her yesterday if she could take Alexis out shopping, she hadn't been able to refuse, even if she'd wanted to (which she hadn't). She had briefly wondered why Alexis specifically wanted her to shop with but the question was solved when Alexis leaned in when Castle had slipped away to use the restroom and told Kate it was so she could buy Castle his Father's Day gift. That had made sense.

So here she was. She and Alexis had gone out for lunch and now Kate turned to the girl. "So where were you thinking of going to get your dad's gift?" She fully expected Alexis to name Macy's, or some other department store like that but instead, Alexis dimpled up at her and answered confidently, "FAO Schwarz."

Kate had to laugh. "You want to go to a toy store for your dad's gift?"

Alexis nodded. "Uh huh. Daddy likes toys."

Kate choked a little, even knowing that Alexis had spoken in all innocence. Only Castle would train his daughter to buy his Father's Day gift at a toy store but well, Alexis was right. "Sounds good to me."

They duly went to FAO Schwarz and Kate was a little impressed, although she supposed she shouldn't be surprised, at Alexis's focus because the girl didn't allow herself to get distracted by the rest of the merchandise, like the stuffed animals and dolls and playhouses that Castle would not be interested in. Her eyes were wide and eager as she took it all in but for the most part, Alexis was good at resisting the temptation to look at the things she might like, with only a couple minor exceptions, and she kept her hand in Kate's as she veered towards the more boyish toys, the train sets, the toy cars, and so forth. The store was, of course, huge and unsurprisingly crowded so they had been in the store for nearing an hour when Alexis spotted something and almost flew across the floor to pounce on one of the boxes with a crow of glee. "Oh, we should get this for Daddy!" She turned to Kate. "What do you think, Kate?"

It was a battery-powered remote control helicopter. Kate couldn't help her snicker even as she could already imagine Castle's excitement over the toy, could picture him pretending to be the pilot in a police helicopter called out to a high speed chase like in some action movie or re-enacting scenes from _Black Hawk Down_. Ridiculous man-child that he was. But she found her heart softening because she liked it, wanted to see him light up with that childlike excitement that was so much a part of him. Wanted to see how much sheer fun he would get out of playing with the toy. God, he made her into such a sap.

"Nice choice, Alexis. I think your dad will love it."

Alexis beamed. "I think so too. He loves this kind of stuff." She paused to check the price tag and her face fell. "Oh, but it costs $47 and I only have $40 for Daddy's gift."

Kate blinked a little. She hadn't quite thought of that but Alexis had made a point of bringing along a small child's purse today. "I'll chip in the rest of the money so you can still get it," she volunteered.

The girl's expression brightened but she hesitated. "You don't have to do that. And I wanted to get something for Daddy all with my own money this time since it's for Father's Day and Daddy's the best."

"It's not that much and I'm happy to do it. Besides, this is the perfect gift for your dad and we haven't seen anything else that he would like as much, have we?"

"No," Alexis answered slowly and a little reluctantly. "Are you sure, Kate?"

Kate smiled. "I'm sure. The gift will still be from you because you're paying for almost all of it and you're the one who picked it out. Besides, I think it'll be fun to see how excited your dad will get when he opens his gift."

That made Alexis smile. "Yeah, Daddy is funny when he gets so excited. Thank you, Kate!" With her arms full of the box for the helicopter, she couldn't give Kate a hug but she leaned into Kate's side, resting her head against Kate's arm for a moment, and the look she gave Kate made Kate's throat get tight. The girl looked at her as if Kate had just carried her out of a burning building or something; it was humbling because Kate couldn't think she deserved it.

Kate put her arm around Alexis's shoulders, clearing her throat a little. "Come on, Alexis, let's go buy your dad's gift."

They made their way up to the counter where Alexis solemnly produced two $20 bills from her little purse and Kate contributed a $10. Alexis beamed at the cashier as the woman put the box into a FAO Schwarz bag and handed it to Alexis. "Thank you. Have a good day," the girl chirped, so brightly she could probably have charmed Ebenezer Scrooge before his reformation into smiling back.

Alexis happily slipped out of the line clutching the shopping bag while Kate gathered up the change and the receipt.

The cashier smiled at Kate, nodding towards Alexis. "Your daughter is adorable."

Oh. She momentarily froze, her heart flipping. "Oh, um… thank you," she finally managed to say, not smoothly. Standing in the checkout line with other people waiting behind her was not the time or place to explain Alexis's place in her life and besides that, Kate found she didn't know what to say, a strange mixture of happiness and something like panic swelling inside her.

She stepped away from the counter on legs that felt strangely numb, hoping she didn't look quite as much like someone who'd just received a severe blow to the head as she felt. It was stupid, absurd, to be reacting like this to what had been a very commonplace compliment but it wasn't the actual words so much as it was what the words had made her realize.

 _Your daughter._

The cashier hadn't really meant anything by it but hearing the words, glancing at Alexis, waiting for her with a smile…

Kate had never thought about it in so many words. She hadn't been thinking in terms of trying to become Alexis's mother or anything close to it. And in all honesty, she'd been too… ignorant about children to think such a thing; she'd never realized how kids could wriggle their way into a person's heart so thoroughly so it made a lack of blood ties seem so… irrelevant. She couldn't even remember exactly when she'd started to care about Alexis so much. But at that moment, hearing the cashier's so mundane words, what had struck her was not that the term was inaccurate but that it felt _true_.

In a lot of ways, being Alexis's mother was the role she was filling, somehow. She helped Alexis with studying, talked to Alexis about the books she read and recommended others. She had gone with Castle to the Open House Day yesterday and applauded just as enthusiastically as he had for Alexis's poetry recitation. Afterward, the three of them had gone out to dinner with Alexis's friend Paige and Paige's family—and somehow, no one had seemed to bat an eye at the fact that Kate wasn't technically part of Castle's family. On the nights she stayed at the loft, she tucked Alexis into bed at night, along with Castle. She worried over Alexis's safety, welfare, and happiness.

She was doing the things that Meredith did not.

And Castle had given her a key to the loft. He'd said it had always just been him and Alexis until now—until her.

It wasn't only that she was increasingly filling the role of Alexis's mother but that it was how Castle and Alexis were starting to treat her. Oh god.

A small hand slipping into hers brought her out of her distraction and she mentally shook herself and blinked to see Alexis smiling up at her as she turned towards the door.

Kate returned the girl's smile. "Ready to go, Alexis?"

"Yeah, let's go home," Alexis agreed happily.

They made it almost a block away from the store before Alexis stopped short, her face falling. "Wait, we can't go home now!"

Kate blinked and frowned. "Why not?"

Alexis's eyes were wide with dismay. "Because Daddy's home and if we go home now, he'll see what we got him!"

"He'll still be excited and he'll understand that it's for Father's Day and wait to open up the box," Kate reasoned mildly.

"But that's not right!" Alexis protested, scowling. "He can't see what we got him until Father's Day, that's the rule for gifts!"

It was possibly the first display of something like temper and stubbornness that Kate had seen from Alexis. She didn't quite understand it but clearly, it meant a lot to Alexis that Castle didn't see his gift before the actual day. Castle probably had made a big deal out of gifts and surprises; it seemed like the sort of thing he would do. She thought fast. "Okay, how about this? We can stop off and buy wrapping paper and then go back to my apartment and wrap your dad's gift before we go home? That way, your dad won't see what you got him."

Alexis considered and then nodded her approval. "Okay, that sounds good." Her smile was restored and Kate felt herself relax. That hadn't been so hard. "Oh and that means I'll get to see your apartment!"

Kate couldn't help the soft laugh from bubbling up. "You're excited at the idea of seeing my apartment?"

Alexis nodded eagerly. "Uh huh."

"It's just an apartment, nothing exciting."

"But it's yours," was Alexis's unanswerable response.

Okay then. Why she was surprised that Castle had apparently passed on some of his curiosity to his daughter she didn't know but she didn't understand what was so exciting about seeing her very simple apartment.

They stopped off at a store along the way for Alexis to pick out wrapping paper—an appropriately geeky one to suit Castle, one involving outer space and spaceships—and it wasn't long before they were at her apartment and Kate ushered Alexis inside.

"Well, here we are. It's a lot smaller than your place, I know, but it's just me so I don't need a lot of space," she added.

Alexis was looking around with bright eyes. "It's cool, Kate!" She took a couple steps forward and then hesitated, glancing back at Kate. "Can I go look around?"

Kate smiled. "Of course. Be my guest."

Alexis's smile flashed before she ventured further inside, heading first to the bookshelves along one wall, as Kate probably could have predicted. "You have a lot of books."

"Your dad has more than I do."

"Yeah, but yours look different. Oh and you have all of Daddy's books!" She looked back at Kate. "Have you read them all?"

"Yes, I have."

Alexis gave her a sunny smile. "You should tell Daddy that. He'll be happy." She turned back to perusing Kate's shelves and then commented, "You have a lot of James Patterson's and Michael Connelly's books too. Daddy won't like that as much but he's silly like that since he has almost all their books too."

Kate laughed a little. "Yeah, your dad can be silly."

"What language is this?"

Kate joined Alexis to look down at the book Alexis had pointed out. "It's Russian." Well, technically Cyrillic but there was no need to confuse Alexis with that.

Alexis's eyes went wide. "You can read Russian?"

"Yes. I studied abroad in Ukraine when I was in college and learned Russian while I was there."

"That's so cool, Kate!"

The girl's enthusiasm made her smile, as usual. "Kiev is a pretty city so it was nice to get to spend a few months there. You should ask your dad to take you sometime."

"Mommy took me to Paris last year but I didn't really get to see anything while we were there, just a few streets when we were in the taxi from the airport, and then we came back just after dinner."

Alexis spoke matter-of-factly but Kate wondered if she was imagining the faint shadow crossing the girl's expression.

"I guess you'll just need to go back to Paris some time so you can really explore it," she answered carefully.

Alexis brightened a little. "Yeah, I guess. I've heard Paris is really nice but all I really remember is being sleepy. Oh and that I had a half-sandwich on a croissant."

Kate brushed an errant strand of hair out of Alexis's face. "Why don't you go look around some more while I wrap your dad's gift?"

"You don't want me to help?"

"No, that's okay," she assured quickly. Alexis might be responsible but even so, she wasn't going to be the one to encourage Alexis to use scissors in her apartment and it wasn't as if gift-wrapping a box was a two-person job.

She settled herself at her dining table with the box and the gift wrap, checking to make sure the price tag was taken off the box, before she started to measure out the wrapping paper.

"Kate, can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course. It's just down the hall, that way," she gestured and watched as Alexis disappeared down the hall.

The girl returned shortly and Kate kept half an eye on her as she wandered around the room, obviously curious but carefully refraining from touching anything, well-behaved girl that she was.

She had just finished wrapping the box up when Alexis interrupted. "Kate?"

"Yeah?" She turned to look at the girl and saw what Alexis was looking at. Oh. Her heart felt tight, as if an unseen hand had reached inside her chest to squeeze it with a fist as she joined Alexis by the side table. Or more specifically, by the picture of her parents she kept on the side table.

"Are these your parents?"

"Yes."

She felt Alexis dart a glance up at her and then felt the girl's small hand slip into hers as she leaned against her side. It was… strangely comforting, somehow, to feel a small hand inside her own, the innocent touch warming her heart.

"Your mom was really pretty," Alexis observed quietly. "You look a lot like her."

Kate focused her gaze on her mom's smiling face in the picture, trying to breathe steadily through the spasm of grief. "Thank you, Alexis," was all she managed to say, her throat tight.

The girl was quiet for a minute but then offered, "Your dad looks nice too."

Kate's gaze moved to focus on her dad, her heart clenching all over again at the sight of her dad, looking so young and so happy, before… well, everything that had happened to break him, break them.

"What are you getting for your dad for Father's Day, Kate?"

Kate blinked. "Oh, um, I haven't decided yet, Alexis," she hedged. It was true. She and her dad had not exactly been on gift-giving terms the last few years and even now, their relationship was so tentative, so fraught, that she wasn't sure what to get him. She'd thought idly of going with something traditional and safe, like a tie or cuff links, but the thought of buying him some accessory like that had faltered when she'd remembered that her dad had stopped wearing the watch she'd given him years ago for Father's Day. As if he didn't want to wear a reminder of her, of her younger days. So she hadn't settled on anything.

"Oh. Why don't you give him something about baseball? Your dad likes the Mets, right?"

She turned to stare at the girl. "He does but how do you know that?"

Alexis shrugged, looking a little discomfited, but answered simply, "Because you painted the Mets logo and a baseball on the mug you said you were going to give to your dad on Mother's Day."

So she had but that had been a month ago. She hadn't expected Alexis would remember what Kate had painted on her mug. "Good memory, Alexis, and that's a great idea."

The girl beamed. "You're going to follow my idea? Really? Cool!"

"I really am. Thank you." She would get her dad tickets to a Mets game. If she got the tickets for a date far enough in the future, maybe in August sometime, both she and her dad should be able to arrange their schedules around it. She and her dad hadn't been to a baseball game together in years but it used to be their thing so maybe, this would be a chance to really get her old relationship with her dad back, or at least something close to it. It would probably end up being the longest period of time she'd spent with her dad in any one day in years, given how long a game tended to be but maybe that, and the relaxed atmosphere at a ballgame, would be the trick to make her and her dad feel comfortable with each other again.

"When will I get to meet him?"

"You want to meet my dad?" Kate repeated, mostly to stall for time as her heart started to rabbit around in her chest just at the thought. Although she really didn't know why. Except it was a big deal, would be a big deal. She hadn't introduced a boyfriend to her dad since high school and this would obviously be different, mean more. And she'd be introducing not just her boyfriend but her boyfriend's kid to her dad too. To say nothing of the fact that she and her dad didn't have the easiest relationship as it was right now so introducing new people into the already fraught equation wasn't that straightforward.

"Of course. Because he's your dad and you've already met Grams," Alexis reasoned.

Trust a kid to reduce it to such simple terms but it was true. She had already met Martha, albeit they had first met long before Kate and Castle had gotten together, but even since then, Martha had not hesitated to place her stamp of approval on the relationship.

And if Alexis was asking, well, Castle had to have wondered the same thing. But he hadn't asked, even in the times he acknowledged her plans with her dad. He was trying not to push, she realized, because he would understand that meeting the parents was a significant step in a relationship and he had some inkling at least of her troubled past with her dad.

But well, maybe it was time to introduce Castle and Alexis to her dad, wasn't it? She was serious about the relationship, committed to it, and she was starting to hope, believe, that it could last.

"I don't know what my dad's schedule is like for the next few weeks but I'll check with him and then with your dad and we'll see about scheduling a time for you to meet," she suggested.

"Okay!" Alexis agreed happily.

"I finished wrapping your dad's gift so are you ready to go back to your place?"

Alexis assented cheerfully and it wasn't long before she and Kate were walking into the lobby of the building, Alexis greeting the doorman with a blithe wave and a "Hi, Eduardo!"

Up on Castle's floor, Kate felt the familiar butterflies appearing in her chest as she took out the key to the loft to let herself in. She wasn't used to it yet, still felt the flutter of nerves at having the key to Castle's home, at knowing he trusted her so much.

Once they were inside, Alexis sang out, "Daddy, we're home!"

Which announcement brought Castle from his office, swooping Alexis up in his arms until her feet dangled in the air and the girl squealed, before smacking a loud kiss to her cheek. Ridiculous man that he was. Anyone watching would think he hadn't seen Alexis in days, rather than mere hours. It wasn't until Alexis swatted him away that he made a show of gasping with wide-eyed surprise at the shopping bag (now a nondescript brown one, not the one from FAO Schwarz) bag Kate placed on the floor.

"You guys got me a gift? What is it? Can I open it now?"

Kate tried to roll her eyes at his overblown, childish excitement but couldn't quite manage it with Alexis giggling.

"It's for Father's Day, Daddy, so you have to wait."

He gave Alexis a look of comical pleading, all big blue eyes. "But I'm your father every day so I should be able to open it today."

Alexis shook her head. "Nope, you have to wait."

"At least give me a hint. Ooh, is it a puppy?"

Kate snorted a laugh. "Yeah, Castle, we got you a dead puppy and put it inside the box," she retorted dryly.

"Ew, Kate, that's gross!" Alexis protested while Castle grinned and nodded at her.

"Macabre humor. As the Master of the Macabre, I approve."

"Since you write macabre humor, you ought to know," Kate quipped.

"What's mah-cobb mean, Daddy?" Alexis inserted.

"Macabre," Castle enunciated carefully. "It's spelled 'm-a-c-a-b-r-e' but it's pronounced macabre. And it means something that's gross because it has to do with death."

"Does that mean your books are macabre since you write about killing people?" Alexis asked.

Castle laughed. "Some people might say that." He pasted on a pout. "Now, are you sure you won't give me a hint about what you got me?"

Alexis shook her head so decisively her hair flared out. "No way. And I'm keeping your gift up in my room because I don't trust you not to peek, Daddy," she said and suited action to the words by picking up the shopping bag and scampering upstairs with it.

Kate had to laugh at Castle's expression even as he slid his arms around her waist, bending to kiss her.

"Mm, hi, by the way," he said afterwards. "And have I mentioned that you look particularly beautiful today?"

"Nice try, Castle, but I'm not going to tell you what Alexis got for you."

"If you tell me, I promise I'll still act surprised."

She snorted. Trust him to make such an offer. "No, Castle."

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Oh fine, I can wait. I suppose."

She patted his cheek with deliberate condescension. "Patience is a virtue."

He made a face at her for that but then sobered, his tone changing. "Thanks for taking Alexis out today. It seems like she had fun."

"No thanks necessary. Alexis is always a pleasure to have around, unlike her father," she teased.

"Hey! First, you refuse to even give me a hint about my gift and now, you mock me. You're so mean, Beckett."

She only laughed softly at his pretend displeasure and proceeded to feather her lips along his jaw and his chin until he turned his head to catch her lips with his.

She sank into his kiss, warmth suffusing her entire body at the affection in it, the caring. Sank into his kiss and his embrace, the circle of his arms, the one place, she thought rather muzzily, where she never felt lacking. One place where she felt safe and protected and, yes, loved.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: For anyone who might be wondering, I now estimate that this story will end up being around 50 chapters (but given the way this story has kept expanding on me, I wouldn't be shocked if it ended up somewhat longer than that).

Thank you as always to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.


	41. Chapter 41

Author's Note: A long chapter of which I can only say, expect some emotional whiplash ahead.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 41_

On Father's Day itself, Kate had to work. Just about every cop who had young kids, which was a significant proportion of them, requested Father's Day weekend off and Captain Montgomery tried to be as accommodating as possible to such requests so this weekend was always largely staffed with those who had no kids of their own or whose kids were grown up.

But after talking to Alexis, Kate had gone so far as to talk to Captain Montgomery herself and received his permission to come into work a little late, at 9:30, which would give her time to help Alexis make breakfast for Castle. Along with leaving work early on that Friday the week before in order to go to Alexis's Open House Day, this was the second time Kate had requested flexibility in her schedule specifically for Alexis's sake and she'd been hard-pressed not to blush and stammer a little when talking to Montgomery. She didn't _do_ this sort of thing—actively rearrange her work schedule because of her personal life (not that she'd had much of a personal life before the advent of Castle and Alexis) but somehow, here she was. She just hated to disappoint Alexis and the feeling had become rooted deeply enough that she was willing to allow her work to give way, when it was possible. When had she started to care more about Castle and Alexis than she did her work?

Needing to go to work meant that the special breakfast Alexis planned to make for Castle (with Kate's help) would need to be somewhat earlier than would have been preferred but Alexis accepted that with what seemed like perfect agreeableness, even though Kate couldn't help but feel a little pinch of guilt because it reminded her too much of Alexis's pained admission before Mother's Day that she wished she could be more important than Meredith's work sometimes. She knew it wasn't the same thing but Kate couldn't help but wonder how much of Alexis's acceptance was due to Meredith's influence.

Kate woke up before Castle as planned and carefully slid out of bed, trying not to disturb him, as she quickly and quietly finished her morning ablutions and got dressed for work. Castle was still sleeping soundly when she finished and she paused to look at him, a small smile playing on her lips. He was an odd combination of adorable and sexy when he was asleep, adorable because he looked younger, more boyish, with his features relaxed and his hair disheveled, and sexy because of the skiff of stubble darkening his jaw. She couldn't help but flush at the sight, sensory memory of the delicious scrape of his stubble against her skin returning to her. (Oh damn, she really had it bad.)

She left Castle to sleep and headed towards the kitchen, just getting out the ingredients and pulling out the pans she and Alexis would need. That done, she went upstairs to wake Alexis up, realizing as she did so that it would be the first time she'd actually done so. During the week, she usually left for work before Alexis was ready for school and in any event, Castle was the one who woke Alexis up for school. On weekends, Castle usually allowed Alexis to sleep in and wake up on her own time. (She didn't know why being the one to wake Alexis up suddenly seemed so significant.)

Kate crept into Alexis's room to see that the girl was sleeping soundly, one hand tucked under her cheek. The daughter might be just as adorable as the father, in entirely different ways. She gently nudged Alexis's shoulder. "Alexis."

The girl blinked sleepy eyes at Kate. "Mm, Kate?"

"I know it's early but you wanted to make breakfast for your dad."

Alexis yawned and nodded. "Uh huh. I'll get up." She yawned again and stretched a little before pushing the bedcovers back and sitting up, her movements a little slow and uncoordinated.

Kate smoothed down Alexis's hair, mussed now from sleep. "I'll be downstairs getting ready."

The girl nodded and Kate left her to it, returning downstairs to start the coffee maker and then cut up fresh fruit.

It wasn't long before Alexis joined her, now fully dressed and appearing much more awake, giving Kate a smile. "Morning, Kate."

"Good morning. Do you have an apron to put on if you're going to be cooking?"

"Uh huh." Alexis opened up a drawer and retrieved a child-size Minnie Mouse apron, putting it on. "I'm ready now, Kate."

With both of them now attired in aprons, Kate and Alexis started making breakfast as planned, with Kate finishing up with the fruit while keeping a careful eye on Alexis working on the pancake batter and then they both moved to the stove for Kate to fry up some eggs and bacon while Alexis mostly was in charge of the pancakes still, although now that they were at the cooking stage, Kate was more active about stepping in.

It was surprisingly fun, she found, to be working with Alexis like this, watching Alexis sticking her tongue out and frowning in concentration as she measured out the ingredients for the pancake batter.

Fun but also poignant. She found herself bombarded with a flood of half-forgotten memories of some holiday—come to think of it, it might have been Father's Day then too—and working with her mom to cook breakfast. She remembered that she'd been so young she'd needed to stand on a small step-stool in order to give her the necessary height to work at the counter. Remembered her mom and her younger self laughing at the smudges of flour they got on their faces. Her throat got tight at the memories.

This was something families did. Something her own mom had done with her more times than Kate could remember.

And now here she was, doing the same thing with Alexis. She was the adult now, the mom figure, while Alexis was playing the role of her younger self. (God, when had she become such a mother figure to Alexis? What was she doing?)

She remembered cooking breakfast for her dad on Father's Day with her mom's help. Now, remembering it, Kate realized that the pancakes she had insisted on making herself had ended up either underdone or a little burnt but her dad had eaten them with as much enjoyment as he would have done a gourmet meal prepared by a Michelin chef and both her parents had praised the meal about as highly too. They had been so happy, she thought, with a stab of grief and longing that, for once, was not focused just on her mom but on her _family_. She usually did think mostly of her mom when she thought about what she'd lost but it occurred to her with fresh clarity that she hadn't only lost her mom on that terrible January day, she had lost her family too. It was as if her mom had been the glue that held her family together and without her, she and her dad had fallen apart, two disparate pieces that could not hold together.

 _We're going to get through this, Katie. We've still got each other._ It was what her dad had told her, promised her, that day on the beach at Coney Island after her mom's funeral, but it hadn't been true. She'd had to return to school, been across the country at Stanford for a few months, and her dad had started to drink and things had just gotten worse even after she'd transferred to NYU to be closer to her dad. It hadn't helped; nothing she had done ever helped. And now she and her dad were still two fractured pieces that could not hold together to form one family unit.

Kate blinked and sucked in a pained, shaky breath, trying to push all such depressing and unhelpful thoughts out of her head and focus only on the cooking—and on Alexis, the girl who was so bright, so innocent, the part of Kate's personal life that was untainted by her bleak past and her own fears of her inadequacy.

She manufactured and painted on a smile as Alexis looked up at her. "Kate, do these pancakes look okay?"

"They look delicious," she answered truthfully. Alexis had been characteristically careful in cooking the pancakes and Kate had only needed to step in to help her flip them. "These look pretty much done. Why don't you run up to get your dad's gift and then you can go wake him up so we can eat?"

"Okay!" Alexis agreed cheerfully. She took off the apron but before she ran off, she turned and threw herself at Kate, her skinny arms wrapping around Kate's waist as she looked up to smile at Kate, propping her chin on Kate's stomach. "Thank you for helping me today, Kate."

Kate wrapped her free arm around Alexis's shoulders, warmth filling her chest. "You're welcome. It's been fun, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was really fun."

Oh, this girl. It took so little, really, to make Alexis happy. Not for the first time, Kate wondered what on earth was wrong with Meredith, not to want to spend time with the little girl. It didn't take much to please Alexis and what had Kate done after all to win Alexis's affection? Nothing much; it wasn't as if Kate had been making a martyr of herself to ingratiate herself with Alexis or Castle. If anything, Kate had been benefiting from them, allowing their happiness, their generally sunny outlook, to brighten up her own life. She still wondered at times if she was using them somehow, felt as if she were getting spoiled with Castle's cooking, his generosity, and the affection and joy he offered so freely. He and Alexis both had made her life so much better, so much happier, and she didn't know how she could deserve it. And Alexis's warm gratitude only made her wonder all over again.

She ran a caressing hand down Alexis's bright hair but all she said was, "You'd better go wake up your dad so we can eat before the food gets cold."

With a last smile for Kate that Kate couldn't help but return, the girl ran off, leaving Kate to set the table, placing the fresh fruit, eggs, bacon, and the plate piled high with pancakes in the center.

She had just finished doctoring Castle's coffee to his preferences when Alexis re-emerged from Castle's office, leading Castle by the hand, looking adorably rumpled and scruffy, since he had only shrugged on his robe over his t-shirt and boxers.

"Surprise! See, we made breakfast for you, Daddy, for Father's Day," Alexis announced.

His steps momentarily slowed, his eyes going wide with surprise and delight that didn't appear to be at all exaggerated. "Oh, wow."

He paused and then looked at Alexis and now, his trademark exuberance appeared in his expression. "You did this, pumpkin?"

"Me and Kate did it," Alexis confirmed. Castle winced a little and opened his mouth to correct her but before he could, Alexis corrected herself. "I mean, Kate and I did it."

Castle smiled and placed an affectionate hand on Alexis's hair. "That's my girl," he said quietly before adding, more loudly, "This is amazing. Everything looks and smells delicious."

Alexis was bright-eyed and flushed with delight at Castle's praise as she led him the rest of the way across the room.

Kate smiled at him, rising up on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek, mindful of Alexis's presence. "Happy Father's Day, Castle."

He curved his arm around her waist. "Kate, I—you really went all out," he breathed.

"It was Alexis's idea and she made all the pancakes," Kate inserted, shooting a smile at the girl.

"Still, you made it happen and this is… a lot. It means a lot," he told her with an intensity she couldn't quite understand.

"It's only one breakfast," she demurred, "and it is Father's Day."

"Yes, but no one's ever cooked for me on Father's Day before."

"No one?" she repeated.

"Well, my mother tried once, with Alexis's help, a couple years ago but my mother is not much of a cook so her attempt was not exactly edible and we ended up going out to eat instead."

And it went without saying that Meredith would never have even thought to treat Castle to anything special for Father's Day even in the couple years they were married. Oh, Castle. She was abruptly fiercely glad that she'd asked Captain Montgomery to be able to go in a little late today since it had allowed her to do this for him.

"Come sit down, Daddy!" Alexis interjected, having pulled back Castle's usual chair at the table.

He turned and bent to give Alexis a hard hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, baby bird," he murmured.

Alexis returned his hug. "It's your special day, Daddy. Now come eat. You have to tell me how the pancakes are."

Castle exchanged a smile with Kate but obediently sat down and she joined them at the table, warmed clear through by the smile Alexis gave her as she helped herself to some eggs and bacon. After her mom had died and her family had fallen apart, she had never imagined becoming part of a family again but somehow, here she was. It was overwhelming at times, had her wondering if she could truly be enough for this, if she was really ready for this kind of commitment, but then she only had to see Castle or Alexis to be reminded that whether she felt ready or not, she wanted this. And what was that line by Emily Dickinson, that forever is composed of nows? She didn't need to worry about the occasional flutters of panic at the thought of forever, just let each moment blend into another moment and another, one day at a time.

The breakfast she and Alexis made turned out to be good, with the minor exception that some of the pancakes were overcooked (her fault, Kate was sure, since Kate had been multi-tasking to cook the eggs and the bacon at the same time) but not to the point of being burnt and in any event, Castle didn't appear to notice at all and certainly didn't eat any less as a result. He praised the pancakes—and Alexis for making them—until Alexis scolded him about it being embarrassing, whereupon he only switched to enthusing over the entire meal. Alexis giggled over his enthusiasm and Kate couldn't help but laugh at his antics, as he drowned his pancakes in syrup until Alexis stopped him, saying it was too much, and he retaliated by smearing a dollop of whip cream across her nose before she could duck away. It was ridiculous and silly and wonderful.

Once Castle had (finally) finished eating breakfast as if he'd just survived a famine, Alexis ducked under the table to retrieve his gift and presented it to him. "Happy Father's Day, Daddy. Thank you for being the best daddy ever."

Castle blinked and tugged his daughter in to hug her hard, partly, Kate suspected, to briefly hide his face from view so he could blink back his manly tears. (She was starting to hear his voice in her head with comments like that.)

He drew back after a moment to smile at the girl. "Thank you, Alexis, for being the best daughter. You've made it easy."

They were so cute in this little mutual appreciation society that they had. She smiled to watch them, even as she felt a renegade little tug of something like envy, a pang of loss, because she and her dad were not like this, maybe would never have this sort of comfort again.

No, no, she wasn't going to start thinking like this, wasn't going to start tormenting herself with comparisons. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right; she refused to be so petty, so irrational.

She loved Castle for the kind of father he was and she loved Alexis too.

"Open your gift, Daddy. You know you want to."

He laughed at that and obeyed, promptly and gleefully ripping at the wrapping paper and then releasing a squeal as the box came into view. "A helicopter! Oh, this is so awesome! Best gift ever!"

Kate grinned at his expected excitement. "Alexis said you love toys." She flicked her eyebrows at him teasingly and he laughed again.

"I really do." He pulled Alexis in to kiss her cheek again. "Thank you so much, sweetie, this is just what I would have chosen for myself."

Alexis dimpled at him. "Kate helped and she wrapped it too."

He turned to Kate, brushing his lips against her temple. "Thank you."

Kate smiled at him, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair just because she wanted to. "You're welcome." As she drew back, it occurred to her that she should check the time, glancing behind her at the clock in the kitchen and she inwardly sighed before she turned back to Castle.

"You need to leave for work, don't you," Castle guessed, not a question, and without even a particle of reproach in his tone either.

She made a face. "Yeah, I really do. Sorry to leave you with the dirty dishes."

He waved that aside. "Don't worry about it. After you did the cooking, it's only fair that I do the cleaning up."

"But not on Father's Day, it's not," she objected.

He shrugged. "It's fine, Kate, really. You've already done plenty."

She didn't quite accept that but it wasn't as if she had a choice about going into work. She gave Alexis a hug, quickly grabbed up her things for work, and then Castle accompanied her to the door, as usual, tugging her in for a last, lingering kiss.

Which really did not make it any easier to leave but Kate managed it, not without some distinct reluctance.

She couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not that it turned out to be a quiet day. She didn't end up getting called out to any fresh murders—of course it was a good thing that people weren't killing each other on Father's Day—but sitting in the bullpen doing paperwork wasn't her favorite activity to begin with and made it just a little harder when she thought about Castle and Alexis. She knew, because Alexis had told her, that they were planning on spending the day at the Natural History Museum pretending to be explorers, "because Daddy really likes Indiana Jones." She pushed the thought of the fun Castle and Alexis were no doubt having away and made a concerted effort to concentrate on her paperwork until her shift ended and she could leave for dinner with her dad.

Because it was Father's Day, she and her dad were not meeting at their usual diner but at a nice Italian place not far from her dad's apartment. She got to the restaurant to find that her dad was already there and she felt a little bit of unacknowledged worry flake away, the nagging worry she still felt whenever she made plans with her dad, that he wouldn't make it because he'd relapsed. Still, even now, she couldn't quite get rid of the fear, the worry. Couldn't fully trust in his sobriety.

She shoved the bleak memories of all the times her dad had come stumbling in late and disheveled—or worse, the times he hadn't shown up at all and she'd had to search for him—out of her mind, managed a bright smile for her dad's benefit as she joined him, stepping into his hug. "Hi, Dad. Happy Father's Day. Am I late?"

"Hi, Katie, and no, you're right on time. I was just early."

Her dad released her and she stepped back to sit down, deliberately adding a few watts to her smile to hide the automatic rush of emotion she felt when she saw him, happiness and relief to see that he was looking so well but also grief and some hurt at the changes she could see too.

"How was your day, Dad? I'm sorry I had to work and couldn't spend the day with you."

"Don't worry about it, Katie. I understand you had to work. My day was fine. I had a little work to do, ran some errands. How was your day at work?"

"Pretty quiet. I just tried to catch up on some paperwork."

It occurred to her that she and her dad were getting too good at this sort of small talk. It seemed like the only kind of conversation they could have with any ease really. She didn't like it but didn't know how to change it either. But making conversation like this was still better than silence, she supposed.

So she and her dad persevered, exchanging a few stories from their respective work weeks. There was a brief pause to order their meals and then after a moment, her dad asked, "So how are your Rick Castle and his daughter doing?"

As usual, the mention of Castle and Alexis made a little spurt of happiness sprout inside her. "They're doing well, thanks. I helped Alexis make breakfast for Castle this morning."

"Oh. Well, that sounds nice." For a fleeting second, her dad's expression blanked and his response sounded oddly measured.

Oh crap, it belatedly occurred to her that she'd basically just told her dad that she'd spent the night at Castle's place, that she slept with Castle, in the non-euphemistic sense. Her dad was almost certainly realist enough to have guessed as much but it was one thing to guess and another thing entirely for her to baldly admit it to her dad. She colored in spite of herself. She hadn't meant to say such a thing but it was out now.

Damn it, would it ever get less excruciating to mention a boyfriend—Castle—to her dad? No, she doubted it.

She had been thinking of mentioning to her dad the possibility of his meeting Castle but she abruptly decided against broaching the subject now. Better not, when her dad had just been made to realize the, um, non-platonic nature of her relationship with Castle. Not that she thought her dad could un-know the last couple minutes but she could wait until the knowledge wasn't quite so fresh and immediate in his mind.

Anyway, it was Father's Day and maybe it would be better to keep this day just for the two of them, as uneasy as their relationship still was.

In some corner of her mind, she knew she was procrastinating, making excuses to postpone a conversation she'd already decided needed to happen, but her relationship with her dad was still so unstable and she was terrified of rocking the boat. Was that wrong of her?

Her dad was going to meet Castle and Alexis one day—just not now, not yet.

She quickly launched into talking about the Open House Day at Alexis's school that she had accompanied Castle to, telling him about the different science projects on display and some of the student artwork and, of course, about Alexis's recitation of _The Raven_ , which Alexis had thrown herself into with a flair for drama that must have been inherited from Martha.

Her dad smiled at the stories. "It sounds like you had a good time and Alexis did well. It brings back memories of going to your old school events, do you remember, Katie?"

"Yes, I remember." Some of the memories were better than others, of course, but still, now that she thought about them, so precious because her mom had been there for all of them. The time when she'd been in first grade, she thought, and she'd frozen on stage during the school play and then fled from the stage in a panic, only to dissolve into tears later as she realized she'd made a bigger spectacle of herself by doing so—and her mom, who had hugged her and told her it was fine and she knew "her Katie" was braver than that—and Kate had managed to return to the stage for the second act of the play, playing her limited role.

"There was that one school play you were in when you were in the 3rd grade, I think, remember, Katie?"

Oh, yes, that. Her cheeks felt hot. "Dad, do you have to bring that one up?" There were other, better memories, when she hadn't felt (and looked) like such an idiot.

Her dad laughed and for just a moment, everything was right again between them. "Don't look at me like that, Katie-girl. I thought you were adorable."

"I was playing a tree," she gritted out. On second thought, why did she want Castle to meet her dad again? Her dad clearly remembered way too many embarrassing stories about her. "Trees are not adorable."

Her dad only grinned at her. "Don't be silly, Katie. You made a very cute tree, especially when you had to sing and hop around."

Because of course, being an elementary school play, it had involved singing and dancing. Ugh. Where was a memory-wiping device when you needed it? "Dad! Can we talk about something else, something that isn't ancient history?"

"I wouldn't call your 3rd grade school play ancient history. It wasn't even 20 years ago," her dad pointed out mildly.

She'd forgotten that her dad could be such a, well, lawyer. "Fine, not ancient, but it was still a long time ago. I'm not a little kid anymore."

Her dad sobered at that, grief deepening the lines etched into his face. "No, I know you're not, Katie."

She inwardly winced because she knew what her dad was thinking, where his thoughts had gone, that her childhood had ended that January day when her mom had died. She hadn't been thinking of that, for once, but it was what he'd thought.

Yet another fleeting moment of humor and ease that was cut short by the brutal reminder of the past.

Thankfully, their server chose that very opportune moment to return with their food and Kate gave a little sigh of relief. The arrival of the food necessarily meant that she and her dad were quiet for a few minutes and then Kate started talking about some of the more lighthearted gossip and funny events that she'd heard from work, the ridiculous things that happened sometimes in people's interactions with the police, the stories of which eventually filtered their way through the cop gossip network.

Her dad smiled and laughed and dinner passed pleasantly enough as Kate managed to keep up a steady stream of amusing anecdotes while they ate.

After, when their server had taken away their plates and asked if they wanted to see the dessert menu, her dad spoke up and asked for the check instead. He met her questioning eyes after their server left. "I actually picked up a pie the other day so I thought we could go back to my place for dessert and you can help me eat it."

"What kind of pie?" she asked, pretending to need to consider it.

Her dad huffed a little and gave her a look. "Apple, of course." Apple pie was his favorite.

She smiled. "Sure, Dad, let's go back to your place for dessert. Do you want to wait until then for me to give you your gift?"

"You got me a gift? You didn't have to do that, Katie."

"Of course I did, Dad. It's Father's Day."

Her dad smiled but she caught a flicker of something like melancholy in his eyes and she was reminded, again, that her relationship with her dad was a new, fledgling thing because last year, for Father's Day, she had not bothered to get a gift for her dad. Actually, the last three Father's Days, she had not bothered with a gift, had not even seen her dad on Father's Day last year. She had called him, out of duty, but then not talked to him when he'd answered because she could hear the slurring in his voice that told her he was already well on his way to passing out and by last year, she had stopped fighting with her dad.

It occurred to her that some sort of memory-wiping device might be what she needed to repair her relationship to her dad too because it was always the memories, the past, that returned to break any fragile peace she and her dad managed to find. But any convenient amnesia-inducing trick didn't seem to be in the works so Kate only pasted on a smile as she cheerfully insisted on paying the bill and then accompanied her dad out of the restaurant.

Her dad's apartment wasn't far and it was a nice night so she and her dad walked the distance with Kate careful to maintain her studiedly cheerful demeanor and happy patter. Once in her dad's apartment, she tried to take heart because it still, again, looked reassuring, the home of someone who was sober and, well, living again, with the day's newspaper lying out on the counter and a copy of the latest _National Geographic_ magazine along with a publication from the bar association on the coffee table.

"Do you want some coffee with the pie, Katie?"

She turned and gave her dad a smile. "Oh, no, better not since it's late. Water is fine, thanks."

Her dad served her with a slice of pie and a glass of water and then returned to the table with his own.

"And here, Dad, Happy Father's Day," she offered, handing him the envelope with the Father's Day card and the tickets to the baseball game in it. She had opted to go with one of the mildly humorous cards and only written a concise message because she hadn't been able to think of what else to write.

"Oh, Katie-girl, thank you. We haven't been to a game in years."

"I know. That's why I thought it would be nice to go again."

They finished the pie and her dad pushed his empty plate aside with an awkward motion. "Katie, the other reason I wanted to come back here for dessert is because I think it's time we talk about something."

What was it about such an announcement, saying 'we need to talk,' that never seemed to herald anything good? Her heart clenched. Oh god.

"Of course, dad," was all she said. "What did you want to talk about?" She steadfastly kept her expression mildly curious, or at least she tried to.

Her dad hesitated, fidgeting with a corner of the envelope, tracing the angle with his fingers. "Me. My… drinking."

She tried not to suck in her breath. "Dad, no," she breathed somewhat unevenly. "We don't—that's over now. You're sober and I—I'm so proud of you," she finished. She wasn't—absolutely wasn't—going to say anything to indicate she had any doubts.

Something flickered across her dad's face before he looked up and met her eyes. "That's nice of you, Katie, and I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you but I think it's time we talk about it, my recovery." One of his hands moved in what seemed like an involuntary twitch but his fingers touched the band of the watch he was wearing. Oh, the watch. She tried, really, not to fixate on it and not to show her reaction to the sight of it. She'd had months to accustom herself to the fact that her dad was no longer wearing the watch she had given him, after all. She shouldn't still feel the fact like a blow. But irrational as it was, she did. And she couldn't help but wonder with the same twist in her chest why her dad had decided he no longer wanted to wear the watch she'd given him for Father's Day years ago.

"What's there to talk about? You recovered. You went to rehab and you're sober and fine now." There was a borderline-hysterical edge to her voice, a little too much fervor, as if she were trying to convince herself, that she inwardly winced to hear but she couldn't help it. It was as much as she could do to stay in her seat and not flee entirely.

"Now, Katie, we both know it's not that simple." He paused, hesitated, and then stood up. "Just a minute. There's something I want to give you that might help me explain."

He vanished into his bedroom while Kate took the minute to try to patch up her tattered composure, get a hold on her emotions, always tenuous when it came to her dad or her mom, the family she had lost.

He returned holding something wrapped in a handkerchief that he unfolded to reveal his watch. The watch she had given him. The watch he no longer wore. It looked as if he'd had it cleaned, she noted peripherally.

"Dad…"

"You gave me this, remember?"

She nodded a little jerkily. "Of course I remember." She had been so proud to present it to him too, been so pleased when he had immediately switched out his old watch for this one.

Her dad tried for a watery smile but didn't quite manage it. "I kept it with me through rehab. It helped to save me, was a symbol of what I was working towards, to be your dad again. And now, I think… it's time for you to take it back because I finished rehab more than six months ago. I feel… better now, stronger."

She swallowed down a lump of hurt that threatened to choke her. He had used the watch she had given him as a talisman of sorts, something to help him, but now he didn't need it. Didn't need her, her mind inserted. "No, Dad, the watch… it's yours. I gave it to you. I can't take it back," she managed to say. "I—I'm really happy," she forced out, pasting on a smile that felt like a rictus. "I'm so proud of you for doing so well. It's great. And we can go to the baseball game in August and it'll be just like old times," she hurried on, almost babbling now. Oh god, she needed to get out of here.

"Katie…"

"Is that the time?" she interrupted him. "I should get going, Dad. I have to get a really early start for work tomorrow. The pie was great and… dinner was nice. I'll, uh, be in touch about dinner next weekend," she hurried on.

Her dad had stood up, looking a little helpless in the face of her determined rush of movement and she inwardly flinched but she needed to get out of there. (Oh god, just please don't let him drink again.)

She gave him a quick hug. "Thanks for the pie, Dad. I'll see you next weekend. I love you," she tacked on, not quite smoothly, but she pushed out the words, a sop to her conscience, for fleeing like this, for putting this expression on her dad's face.

His expression eased just a fraction. "I love you too, Katie. Take care of yourself."

"Of course. Have a good week." With a last smile and quick hug, she was out the door and fleeing the building as if she were being chased by rabid dogs.

It took concerted effort, all the self control she had built up over the years, but she kept herself from breaking down until she made it back to her own apartment and gave in to the tears that had been threatening in a spate of sobs she would be ashamed of later but couldn't help now.

She really should be inured by now to the knowledge that she couldn't save her dad, had never been enough to save him. He loved her but it had never been enough to stop drinking. And no matter what he'd said about the watch and how it helped, she couldn't believe him because if she was enough to make him get sober, then he would have stopped drinking at any point in the last five years. But she wasn't enough. She hadn't been able to control his drinking and she hadn't been able to save him. All her tears, all her anger, her reproaches, her pleading, nothing had ever worked. Nothing she had said or done had ever been enough—and now, when he was sober, she still wasn't enough.

She started a little as her phone rang and her heart clenched at the possibility that it might be her dad and she really didn't know if she was ready to talk to her dad right now but then she saw that it was Castle.

Oh, Castle. But the surge of warmth at the thought of him was abruptly drowned in a tidal wave of hurt and bitter envy that choked her and for the first time, when she wasn't busy with work, she let a call from Castle go through to voice mail. She didn't know if she could control her voice and for once, she wasn't sure if she could bear to talk to him, hear his voice. Hear him mention Alexis, as he undoubtedly would, with all the love coloring his voice. She remembered that morning, the way Castle had hugged Alexis, the way he had said that she'd made it easy to be such a good dad. Castle, who loved Alexis so deeply, who, she had no doubt, treasured every card or gift Alexis had ever given him as if it were the Crown Jewels.

She hated herself for the envy, the ugly emotion, but she couldn't help it at that moment, the stark contrast between her relationship with her dad and Castle and Alexis's healthy, happy relationship. Oh, she knew it wasn't the same and comparisons weren't appropriate because Alexis was only a child after all and Castle and Alexis had not suffered the same sort of tragedy that she and her dad had (and god willing, never would) but it still hurt.

She would be able to get over this, just as she'd been able to largely forget the occasional twinges of envy she'd felt months ago when she'd been getting to know Castle and Alexis. It wasn't about Castle and Alexis; the happiness they brought her more than outweighed any hurt, at least it usually did. She just needed more time.

More time until the hurt from this fresh reminder of her inability to save her dad could fade, more time until she could paste her emotional shield back together.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Sorry but I do have a plan to fix this, I promise! Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers. I hope everyone who celebrates it has a very happy Easter.


	42. Chapter 42

Author's Note: I could say that in some ways, this chapter is what this entire story has been trying to lead towards, at least aside from the Caskett relationship. I've certainly been planning it for a long time—and I will leave it to you all to decide how it's turned out.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 42_

If the last years had taught Kate anything, it was the ability to keep her emotions, thoughts of her family, her parents, confined behind a heavily-padlocked door, battened down so it wouldn't intrude on her work, her daily life. And she drew on that skill the next day, with, admittedly, more effort than usual but she managed it. She was Detective Kate Beckett and she had a job to do, a promotion recent enough she still needed to prove herself, and a Captain and senior officer she was determined not to let down.

And anyway, work had always been her refuge. She hadn't been able to solve her mom's case, hadn't been good enough to save her dad but she could help save others, could solve their murders and find answers for the victims' families. So Kate worked.

She showed up early on Monday and then a body dropped that was assigned to Hassan's team so she worked late and showed up early again on Tuesday and even when the case was solved on Tuesday afternoon, she didn't leave work immediately when her shift ended but stayed to finish the paperwork and persisted in staying until Captain Montgomery paused by her desk on his own way out, clearing his throat pointedly.

"Still here, Beckett?"

"Yes, sir, just getting the paperwork on the Dougherty case finished."

"I see. Well, no need to burn the midnight oil on that since Eckhart is safely behind bars and will stay there so I expect you'll be able to head out soon." Of course, what was left unsaid was that Montgomery was perfectly able to find out when Kate left the precinct so he would know if his "expectations," so to speak, were not met.

"Yes, sir, have a good night."

"Good night, Beckett."

Thanks to Montgomery's less-than-subtle hinting, Kate perforce had to leave the precinct earlier than she'd intended, stopping off to pick up some of her favorite Chinese take-out before returning to her apartment.

She ate in solitary splendor in front of the TV just for the sake of having some noise in her apartment, although afterwards she couldn't have sworn to what she watched. (When had her apartment started to seem too quiet and too… big? Which was insane because her apartment, while certainly nothing to complain about given Manhattan housing, was not exactly enormous either.)

There was a beep from her phone indicating she'd received a text and she checked it, biting her lip as she saw that it was from Castle, asking if she was still at work. Of course, what he meant was whether she would be coming over tonight. To the loft, that home so redolent with love and happiness, where every inch of it practically seemed covered with reminders of Castle and Alexis and, yes, Martha. The loving, happy family that they were. Her heart twisted as she quickly typed out a somewhat terse response that she had paperwork to do and was tired. Which was all technically true—she did have paperwork to do which could have kept her at work longer if Montgomery hadn't interceded and she was tired, since she hadn't slept well the last couple nights-but she also knew that she wasn't answering his real question.

She might be missing him and Alexis—she was—irrationally, since it was her own fault that she hadn't seen or really talked to Castle in the last couple days but she just couldn't quite push past the twisting in her chest, the spurt of corrosive envy, when she thought about them. The reminder of the father-daughter relationship she did not have and would never have again. That was really what hurt so much, what made her feel as if a gaping wound had opened up in her heart, that she was starting to think she and her dad would never be able to move past this fragile stalemate between them, as if their relationship had reached a plateau where they could talk with relative ease about inconsequential things, even laugh together for brief moments, but nothing more. Because she couldn't forget all the times her dad had let her down and that she had never been able to save him and still wasn't enough now.

Her dad was the one who had decided to go to rehab and he was the one who was staying sober now, even after all these months. It wasn't about her, had never been about her. And now, her dad didn't need her anymore, could get by without her.

She impatiently swiped away the stupid tears that had welled up in her eyes. Tears never did any good. They served no purpose, wouldn't change her relationship with her dad (what there was of one). She pushed herself to her feet and put away the remnants of her takeout dinner with quick, angry movements and balefully eyed the cabinet where she kept her liquor for a few minutes before deciding. She rarely drank when she was alone and she tried never to do so in order to dull emotional pain of any kind—what her dad had done for years—but what the hell. Surely just this once, she could try to find some measure of ease. Alone because she always was alone when she was hurting in any way. ( _She hadn't been alone lately_ , a tiny voice reminded her, but she ignored it, couldn't allow herself to think about… hi—that.)

She had just poured herself some Scotch and taken a defiant gulp when she was startled by the sound of a knock on the door. Who—what—

She wasn't in the mood for company, not that she could really think of anyone who would just be stopping by anyway since she knew Lanie was working and Lanie didn't often stop by unannounced anyway, and she almost stomped across her apartment to look through the peephole.

It was Castle.

Oh. She felt an unreasoning, completely absurd, spurt of gladness at the sight of him. She might not have allowed herself to go over to his place or even admit to herself how much she wanted to see him (in spite of everything) but now, the decision had been taken out of her hands and he was here and she didn't pause to wonder why or how. It was just an unlooked-for gift. She flung open her door. "Castle," was all she said and then before he could respond, she stepped right into him, burying her face in his shoulder and feeling his arms close around her, strong and warm and welcoming.

She let out a shuddering breath, some of her tension dissolving as she breathed in his familiar scent. She might have wanted this, him, even more than she'd realized, more than she'd been willing to admit to herself. The strength of his arms around her, the solid bulk of his chest to lean against.

But even so, Kate didn't stay leaning against him for long, straightening up and stepping back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just throw myself at you," she felt herself flushing a little.

"No, don't apologize. You never have to apologize for throwing yourself at me. In fact, feel free to throw yourself at me whenever you want." His words were light but his expression was not, his eyes soft and concerned as they searched her face.

"What are you doing here?" she summoned up the coherence to ask. "Where's Alexis?" She felt a twinge at the mention of his daughter, a stronger one at the way his expression softened, as always, at the mention of her.

"My mother stopped by and took Alexis out for dinner and I think they plan to watch a show too. Now that Alexis's school is out and so she doesn't need to worry about schoolwork or waking up early the next day, my mother likes to show up unexpectedly to take Alexis out and with her connections in Broadway, she can usually get free or discount seats to shows," he explained.

Kate managed a faint smile. "That's nice. Alexis must enjoy that."

"Yeah, she does. Anyway, since that meant I was free, I thought I'd stop by." He lifted up a small bag in his hand. "I brought cupcakes from our bakery to see if I could bribe you into spending the evening with me."

Now her smile wasn't forced. She didn't know how he did it, manage to make her smile even in spite of everything. "Our bakery, huh?" Oh, this man.

He gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Isn't it? More importantly, will my bribe work?"

"Well, since you already bought the cupcakes, it would be a waste not to eat them," she drawled with a show of reluctance.

He grinned. "See, that's what I like about you, Beckett. You're so practical."

She softened into another smile, her heart squeezing almost painfully in her chest. He was ridiculous but he was also sweet. And hers. "Do you want wine to go with the cupcakes?"

His eyes flickered over and found the glass of Scotch and the bottle beside it on the counter and she inwardly cringed—oops—but he didn't comment as he returned his gaze to her. "That sounds great."

She retrieved a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass as he found plates and set out the cupcakes and they settled on her couch to eat them in companionable silence. Well, somewhat, mostly companionable silence, since she still felt some hurt and jealousy dripping into her system like some slow poison eroding her contentment at being with Castle again and she sensed his gaze and knew he was wondering what was going on and if she would confide in him.

She wished she could. Or thought she did. She inwardly winced, the last bite of her cupcake suddenly tasting acrid in her mouth as her less-than-pleasant thoughts intruded.

He finished his own cupcake and his wine and then shifted on the couch so he could slide his arm around her shoulders and she let her head rest on his shoulder, trying to take what comfort she could from his proximity.

He waited and she felt him press his lips against her hair in an undemanding caress, a silent invitation. _I'm here._

She didn't speak. And after a long few minutes, he finally asked, quietly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I… don't think I can." How could she tell him that her own dad was rejecting a gift she had give him? How could he understand with his happy, wonderful, loving family? His relationship with his mother might be a little odd, with its edgy banter, but it was so clearly loving, the sort of bond that never needed to be spoken because both sides understood the strength of it. And she certainly never, ever wanted him to know how stupidly envious she was of his and Alexis's loving relationship. What kind of terrible person would feel such jealousy when it wasn't as if his loving relationship with Alexis had taken anything away from her or really had anything to do with her? What kind of terrible person envied a little kid just because she was lucky enough to have what Kate herself did not?

"Did something happen with your dad, Kate?"

She stiffened, pushing herself away so she could stare at him. "How could you possibly know that?" She wondered wildly if he had found a way to contact her dad behind her back, not even thinking how unlikely that was.

"Because I know everything was fine when you left for work on Sunday and you had dinner with your dad on Sunday evening and I'm guessing that's when whatever it is that's bothering you happened. You didn't answer your phone on Sunday night or yesterday night and since then, your answers to my texts have seemed terse, as if you didn't want to talk, and we certainly haven't had a fight or anything so it's nothing to do with us."

She blinked, a little nonplussed. Somehow, it hadn't really occurred to her how well he was getting to know her and how insightful he could be. "Oh." She rallied, tried to quip, "You could be a detective."

The corners of his lips quirked faintly but it faded quickly. "Kate? What happened? Is your dad okay?"

Her lips twisted. "He's fine." There was a faint, bitter emphasis on the pronoun that shocked her a little. Her dad was fine, now that he was sober and felt stronger in his sobriety. She was the one who had lost both her parents.

Castle reached out and closed his hand around hers. "But you're not?" It wasn't quite a question, even if he did end on an uncertain note.

Her eyes dropped to focus on her hand, noting a little idly how small and strangely delicate her own hand looked compared to his bigger, masculine one with its strong, dexterous fingers. How his hand was able to practically engulf hers. She didn't quite know why but something about the sight of it made her feel as if she could tell him at least a little of what was wrong. He would listen and maybe he could comfort her. He thought she was extraordinary, had never ever seemed to find her lacking.

She didn't look up at him, kept her eyes on their joined hands. "It is about my dad." Castle's fingers tightened around hers but otherwise, he didn't respond. God, she didn't know how to explain this. And she still absolutely refused to tell Castle about the stupid jealousy she felt over his relationship with Alexis. She just had to get over it, that was all.

"He said he wanted to talk about his… problem." She knew using a euphemism like that was cowardly but talking about this at all was using up about as much courage as she had. "We haven't talked about it since he got out," she spoke jerkily. "I cut him off, left in a hurry. Talking never helped and it's in the past now." It was in the past and she knew all too well that her words had never done any good to make her dad stop drinking. "He—I gave him a watch, years ago. He… wanted me to take it back now that he's sober. He said it was a symbol of what he was working towards and now that he's sober, he doesn't need it anymore." She tried but couldn't keep the bitterness and the hurt she felt out of her voice, almost choked again on a fresh swell of emotion on having to say the words out loud.

Castle's grip on her hand tightened almost convulsively and she heard him suck in his breath.

There was a brief silence as if he was waiting for her to say more and she wondered what more she could say. She didn't feel like she could admit aloud in so many words that she wasn't enough to save her dad.

But then… "Kate? Can I say something?"

He sounded tentative, unsure, and she glanced up at him. "What, Castle?"

He hesitated and then finally went on, "I think… Did your dad actually say that? Not that I don't believe you but I just… I don't think he would say that. I can't help but wonder if you might be misunderstanding him."

She stiffened, jerking her hand out of his, in a flare of hurt and betrayal. "What would you know about it? You've never even met my dad!"

"Since when is that my fault?" he retorted.

She inwardly flinched and defensiveness spurred her to go on offense. "I don't know why I thought you'd understand, you with your perfect, happy family."

It was his turn to jerk away from her, his expression stiffening, a mask seeming to fall. She hadn't realized his eyes or his expression could get so flat, so cold. "You've met Meredith and you can say that?"

"You divorced Meredith; she's not your family anymore. I can't divorce my dad."

"Fine, if that's the way you want to see it," he clipped out and surged to his feet. "If you don't want my opinion, you shouldn't have asked."

He had a point, she realized belatedly. She'd asked what he thought and then the moment he offered an opinion, she'd leaped down his throat.

He'd reached the door and she finally managed to force her stubborn tongue to cooperate. "Castle, wait."

He stopped, his hand on the knob, and then after a moment, he turned and, slowly, returned to the couch, although he sat stiffly on the end of it and not right beside her.

"You're right. I'm sorry," she managed to force out words she never liked to say. Any mention of her parents hit her too viscerally, made her too quick to lash out without cause, she knew that but it hadn't stopped her from lashing out anyway.

His expression softened a little, no longer looked as if his features had been carved out of granite, as he sighed. He didn't speak for a moment but then, he began quietly, "I may not have met your dad but I am a son and a father and I've made enough mistakes at being both that I've learned some things along the way." He paused for a long minute and when he finally resumed speaking, she blinked at him for the seeming non sequitur. "You know I went to boarding school?"

Huh, what? She vaguely remembered some PR stories about his having been kicked out of several prestigious boarding schools but she couldn't remember the details and she had no idea why he was bringing it up now.

He seemed to take her silence as assent because he continued, although not in his usual storytelling tone. "My mother's a single mom so it was just the two of us when I was growing up. She had some boyfriends, of course, but they didn't last long and otherwise, it was just us."

Yes, that much, she had already known or guessed at. She still wasn't sure where Castle was going with this foray into his past but she couldn't help but be drawn in, partly because his expression told her he was serious and had a purpose and partly because she'd never actually heard him talk about his youth like this.

"We moved around a lot, touring for my mother's shows, so I changed schools just about every year, sometimes every semester. Then, my mother had me apply for a scholarship. She didn't tell me, at first, that it was for a boarding school."

Oh. Some vague understanding started to dawn on her.

"I won the scholarship and that was when my mother told me it was a boarding school, that I'd have to go away. She said it was for my own good, would help me academically and help me make better friends to have some stability. Also, it would help me later to get into college." He paused. "I didn't want to go. I was 13 and thought I knew everything so I was convinced she was lying, that she was sending me away because it would be easier for her. It's not—it wasn't easy being a single mom and an actress. My mother tried to hide it from me but kids pick up on things and I wasn't stupid. So I was convinced my mother was sending me away for her sake, not mine. I resented her for it but I didn't say anything to her, not then."

He paused, shadows crossing his face at whatever he was remembering. His lips twisted a little. "Boarding school was… not great." Judging from his expression, she guessed that was very much an understatement and he meant that boarding school had been terrible. "That's not the point. Anyway, I was angry at my mother, blamed her, but I didn't talk to her about it, was practicing to become a brooding writer, I guess." A wry, self-deprecating smile curved his lips, although it wasn't really humorous.

"We grew apart. I suppose it was inevitable. Teenage boys aren't known for confiding in their mothers and I was growing up. But anyway, resenting my mother for sending me away put a distance between us and the longer it went, the harder it was to mention at all and so the gap kept widening."

"How did you fix it?" She hadn't noticed any sort of constraint between Castle and Martha when they were together and she thought she would have noticed; for obvious reasons, she tended to be a little hyper-sensitive to parent-child tension and what she remembered from watching Castle and Martha interact was their ease. It was apparent in the way they poked fun at each other, even the veiled insults, because as she knew all too well, that sort of humor wasn't possible unless both sides were at ease and comfortable with each other.

"I didn't. It was really Alexis who fixed it. She—becoming a father—really had me understanding a lot better what my mother went through and so I finally talked about it, openly, with my mother, told her I understood. And since then, my mother's been great with Alexis and, well, you've met Mother."

She understood his point and appreciated that he wanted to help but… What stood between her and her dad was a lot more than just some misunderstanding about boarding school back when Castle was a teenager. "What if I don't want to talk about it? What if all it does is bring up all the bad memories from the past few years—and they are bad—and what's the point when it's in the past and talking about it won't change what happened?"

"Kate…" he sighed and then paused, visibly trying to plan his words. "Not talking about a problem doesn't make a problem go away. The thing about buried things is that they don't tamely stay buried, they sprout roots and grow and it becomes this tangled jungle that you'd need a machete to hack your way through." He blinked and she felt a renegade spurt of something that might have been amusement at any other time at the way he had gotten off track with this metaphor. Such a writer.

He paused and then started again, more thoughtfully, "Sometimes, when a bone breaks and gets set incorrectly, it needs to be rebroken so it can be set properly or otherwise, it'll never really heal."

He stopped and finally, shifted closer to her on the couch and taking her hand in his as he met her eyes directly. "I'm not saying that talking to your dad about his past troubles will be easy. It's going to be hard, maybe even brutal, because your past with your dad contains more pain than I can even begin to understand. But Kate," he lifted his other hand and touched his fingers to her cheek with so much ineffable tenderness it made her heart hurt, "you are the strongest person I've ever met so if anyone can handle this, it's you."

She choked on something that might have been a sob. How could he have such faith in her?

"And I may not know your dad but I do know you and if I had to guess, I'd say you and your dad must have been close once."

He paused on a faintly questioning note and she confirmed this with a small nod, stupid tears pricking at the back of her eyes at some of the memories. Yes, she and her dad had been close. She remembered baseball games and long, lazy afternoons spent fishing. And a memory she had almost forgotten returned to her: when she had told her parents she was going to be pre-law at Stanford, her dad had been the first to support her and tell her he was proud of her. (She had found out later that her mom's initial hesitation had been due to fear that Kate's decision had been based on what she thought her parents wanted, not her own choice, but Kate abruptly remembered the way her heart had sunk on seeing her mom's face—and the way it had leaped, how much it had meant to her at that moment when her dad stepped up.)

"If you hadn't been, you wouldn't be so hurt now. It's why I think you might have misunderstood or he misspoke or both."

"You really think so?" She didn't quite see how. How else could she have taken her dad trying to give back the symbol of their old relationship now that he was stronger? And five long, bitter years had told her that she wasn't enough to make him get sober.

He hesitated and it occurred to her that he wasn't promising anything, knew he couldn't make such a promise, that talking would solve everything between her and her dad. And she loved him for it, that he wasn't making some glib, facile promise he would never be able to keep, no matter how much he might want to, just to make her feel better, and she could see the impulse warring in his eyes, but he didn't. He finally answered, carefully, "I think you at least need to talk to your dad. Families are hard because we're so close to them, too close to see clearly, but you love your dad so think about giving him a chance to explain. And then if you need a shoulder to cry on, my shoulder is available to you at any time," he added, a faint smile softening his expression. And somehow, that helped too, the reassurance, the reminder, that no matter what happened with her dad, she had someone to turn to.

It occurred to her that she'd been thinking about things the wrong way, focused too much on what she had lost, not on what she had. She wasn't a child anymore; she was a fully functional adult. She didn't need a parent in the most basic sense, someone to look after her, arrange her meals and her daily life, or tell her what to do. What she wanted, needed, was just _family_ , people who cared about her and supported her, were on her side. And she had that, now. Castle wasn't only Alexis's father; he was also her partner—her best friend, her lover. The person she could lean on. Castle and, yes, Alexis too, were her family now.

"Okay," she agreed on a shaky sigh. "I'll talk to my dad." She paused and then added, "Thank you. And about meeting my dad, I do want you to meet him. I just…" She was afraid, not that Castle wouldn't get along with her dad or vice versa but afraid that her dad's sobriety wouldn't last, afraid to bring her and her dad's dysfunctional relationship into the Castle family. They didn't need that, didn't deserve that.

"You don't have to explain, Kate. I get that it's a big deal. And I haven't exactly been eager about trying to make it happen anyway."

She tried to parse his words. "Are you nervous about meeting my dad?"

His eyes flickered, giving him away even as he tried to deny it. "No. Well, not nervous, exactly," he hedged.

How was it that Richard Castle, the suave man-about-town who was known for his way with people and used to meeting celebrities, could be reduced to this, just at the idea of meeting her dad? "Why would you be not nervous?" she questioned, using his own phrasing.

"I've been divorced and I've done my fair share of stupid things and I do have a reputation. Even I wouldn't say that I'm a father's ideal for his daughter."

Her heart turned into a soft, melting thing in her chest. For all Castle's joking egotism, his bravado, she forgot that he had his own insecurities. "Do you know what the main thing my dad knows about you is?"

"No."

She gave him a soft smile. "That you make me happy."

"Oh, Kate…" he breathed, a smile starting deep in his eyes. "You make me happy too."

Oh god, she hoped so. It would make her feel less as if she were only taking from him and Alexis, using him and Alexis for the way they brightened up her life so much, the warmth and laughter they offered so freely. While she—what?—gave them glimpses into her life that dealt with crime and murder and all the ugliness people were capable of.

He slid his hand around to cup the back of her neck, bringing her in to give her a soft, lingering kiss and she forgot to think, forgot her fears at least for the moment, in favor of kissing him back.

Afterwards, she didn't want to move away from him, shifted closer so she could rest her head against his shoulder and he settled his arm around her shoulders, keeping her tucked against him. He was so broad and solid and comforting and she allowed herself to slump against him in a way she normally wouldn't. But he was here and holding her and she was so tired, tired of holding herself up. Now that her decision to talk to her dad had been made and the tension from talking about it with Castle was over, she was just spent, not helped by the fact that she had not gotten much sleep at all the past couple nights. She nestled more snugly against him and let her eyes close, aware of the steady sound of his breathing just above her hair.

She wasn't sure how much time passed or that she'd dozed off until she woke up to Castle gently nudging her. "Kate, wake up."

She blinked and straightened. "Hmm, I'm awake. I'm awake."

He didn't bother disagreeing with her. "Come on, sweetheart, go sleep in your bed, not here."

Some more awareness returned to her. "Did you just call me sweetheart?"

"I guess I did. Do you mind?"

She considered it—or at least, tried to, with her brain still a little fuzzy from just having awoken. She wasn't someone who liked pet names, would have thought she would mind it, but at the moment, huh, she didn't seem to mind. "I don't mind. Just not in front of other people," she added a little belatedly, that much coherence returning to her.

"Of course not," he agreed and then added, the corners of his lips quirking upwards, "I'll wait until the next time I visit the precinct to call you honey-bun."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I will shoot you," she threatened, although her voice sounded tired enough that she knew she sounded about as threatening as a day-old kitten.

He had the nerve to smirk at her, infuriating man, and then drop a quick kiss on her lips. "Go get some sleep, Kate."

She pushed herself to her feet. "What about you?"

He made a gesture with one shoulder. "I should be going home, make sure I'm back before Mother and Alexis get home."

"Oh, okay." She was unaccountably, absurdly disappointed even though she'd known that he wouldn't be able to stay. Of course he had to get home for Alexis.

She accompanied him to her door and briefly sank against him as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple. "We'll talk tomorrow."

It was almost a question and she nodded against his shoulder. "Tomorrow. Have a good night, Castle, and say hello to Alexis."

He smiled at the mention of his daughter and she was glad that this time, she only felt a small twinge at the way his whole expression softened. "Of course."

She still had a family, she reminded herself. She didn't need her dad so much; she had Castle and Alexis now.

He turned to open the door and on a sudden impulse, she caught his hand, making him glance back around.

"Rick. Thank you," she managed, inanely, but it was all she could think of to say. He'd come over to spend the evening with her and had to spend basically the entire time helping her deal with her messy emotions over her dad and that couldn't be anything close to what he'd expected or wanted to have to do this evening.

His expression softened into a tender smile that barely curved his lips and existed mostly as a light in his eyes. "Always," he said simply, squeezing her hand briefly.

He left after a last, quick kiss and she went to bed but the warmth from his kiss and his words lingered as a soft glow in her chest until she fell asleep.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.


	43. Chapter 43

Author's Note: Again, this chapter is another I've been planning for basically this entire story. Fair warning that it is a very heavy, emotional chapter—but it does end on a happy note, I promise!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 43_

Kate inwardly steeled herself as she slipped away from the bullpen during her lunch break the next day, finding a quiet corner in the hall leading to evidence storage. She had promised to talk to her dad and putting it off was not going to make it any easier.

She pulled out her phone and pressed the number for her dad's office, since it was the middle of the work day. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding at the crisp, business-like answer. "Jim Beckett." He was still sober.

"Hi Dad."

"Katie!" She flinched a little as her dad's tone instantly changed. He said her name as if it was a prayer. She heard a soft sound that she guessed indicated he had closed his door and then he was asking, "Katie, are you all right?"

"I was going to ask you that," she batted back, blinking back the stupid tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

"I've been worried about you, Katie. You left in such a hurry on Sunday and I..."

"Sorry about that, Dad," she hurriedly stepped in as he hesitated. "I had a little headache," she fibbed. "So I wasn't in a good place to have a serious conversation."

"You're better now, though?" her dad asked in a tone that told her he knew, or suspected at least, that she wasn't being entirely truthful but wasn't going to challenge her on it. Her dad didn't really challenge her or call her out, on anything anymore.

"I'm fine," she answered, automatically, her voice switching to the carefully cheerful tone she tended to use with him. It took conscious effort not to use that tone, to sound more natural, as she went on, "I was thinking, maybe we could have dinner tonight? I could pick up some food after I get off work and bring it over and we could finish our talk."

"Of course, Katie, that sounds great."

Stupidly, she flinched again at how happy her dad sounded at the idea. Her dad was happy to see her, happy to talk to her, and she ought to be happy about that but it only made her feel a little lash of guilt because she was never that happy to see her dad. She loved her dad—she did—but the tension she always felt with him made it hard for her to actually enjoy his company much, made it hard for her to feel any anticipation at all about seeing him.

Maybe—maybe it was time she stopped pretending so much. She had told herself and told herself that she couldn't control her dad's drinking or his recovery but even so, she'd internalized the need to be cautious around him, never showing him anything but a happy façade. Always afraid that if she showed him any of the cracks in her life, her heart, the scars from her mom's death and—more—his years of drowning in the bottle, he wouldn't be able to take it, would relapse, again. Except he was the one in charge of his recovery and he was the one who would be responsible for a relapse if it happened.

Maybe it was time she stopped trying so hard. Time to try to trust in her dad's recovery a little more. Because he had finished rehab and it had been more than six months now and he was still sober. He'd gotten through Christmas and The Anniversary and her mom's birthday and he was still sober. And even after Sunday, when she'd shown him the first crack in her always-happy façade and run out on him, he was still sober.

"Good. I'll see you tonight, then," she infused as much happiness into her voice as she could, still. "Is there anything particular you want to eat for dinner?"

"No, you know me, Katie. Just pick up whatever you want to eat and I'll be fine."

"Pineapple pizza it is, then," she managed to joke. Her dad detested pineapple on pizzas, and while it wasn't her favorite, she didn't mind them.

"Don't you dare." Her dad laughed and she relaxed a little. Slowly, at least, she and her dad were rediscovering their senses of humor around each other.

"Fine, fine, no pineapple pizza," she said with mock grumbling. "I'll think of something else."

"You do that, Katie, and I'll pick up something for dessert."

"That sounds great, Dad. I'll see you later."

"See you tonight, Katie."

She ended the call and sagged against the wall, shutting her eyes. God, was it always going to be so hard to talk to her dad? She might want to stop trying so hard around her dad but that was easier said than done. She wasn't sure she knew how to stop watching her words with her dad, how to stop being so cautious around him. It had been ingrained in her, was all but instinctive now.

Kate straightened up automatically as she heard footsteps approaching, reminded that she was still standing in a public hallway at work, albeit one that was not very busy, and nodded a greeting to Officer Reyes.

Right. She was still at work. She didn't have time to be wallowing in the uneasiness of her relationship with her dad right now. She let out a breath, stiffening her spine, as she returned to the bullpen and the paperwork that was awaiting her, pushing all thoughts of her dad to the back of her mind.

Some time later, she impatiently tugged out some paper at the bottom of a small stack to check something and then froze, her heart momentarily stuttering, as the movement made the mug that had been resting on the papers fall over with a clatter. She caught the thankfully-empty mug up in her hand, running her fingers as well as her eyes over it, and noted with a little sigh of relief that it didn't appear to have sustained any damage. It was the mug Alexis had made for her on Mother's Day and had become her go-to mug for her coffee during the day, sometimes making her imagine that the precinct coffee was just a little less terrible when she drank it out of Alexis's mug. For just a moment, she allowed herself to cradle the precious little gift in her hands, ridiculously glad that it hadn't been chipped or harmed by her carelessness. It was the only personal item she had on her desk, aside from her mom's elephants, and unlike the elephants, the mug evoked no bittersweet or poignant emotions, only positive ones.

Castle wasn't the only person she'd missed. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt at how she'd allowed her own stupid, petty jealousy to keep her away from Alexis. It might have only been a couple days but the little girl deserved better than that.

"Beckett."

Her head jerked up, quickly replacing the mug on her desk, as Hassan approached her desk. "Yes, sir."

Fortunately, Hassan didn't seem to notice her distraction as he handed her a file. "Look through this case file, will you? I have the feeling the officers missed something but I can't put my finger on what it is and you've got better beginner's eyes than I do."

"Of course, sir." She bent her head over the file, refocusing her attention on her work. What was she doing, letting her personal life distract her at work? (Not that she'd really had much of a personal life to be distracting before but still.) No more. She might be an inadequate daughter, a lame girlfriend, and a poor substitute for a mother but she could be—was—a good cop and she refused to let that change.

True to her resolve, she buried herself in her work, reviewing the file for what the first investigating officers might have missed. The file was relatively thin because the officers hadn't found much to go on, a home-invasion homicide that appeared to be a robbery gone wrong, the victim a single woman in her late 20's, living alone. The scene itself turned up nothing helpful and it was the same thing with the canvass of neighbors or talking to her co-workers. She went back through the file more slowly, the crime scene photos, everything.

She idly wondered what Castle would make of it all, what kind of outlandish theories he would concoct.

Wait. She frowned, looked again, and then leaped up out of her seat, rushing over to Hassan's desk. "Sir, I think I've caught something."

She laid the file out on Hassan's desk, pointing to the picture of the victim. "Look at her hand, sir, her fourth finger," she specified. "There's a faint tan line." She absolutely was not reading any significance into the fact that the thought of Castle had led her eyes to the victim's ring finger.

Hassan frowned as he peered at the picture. "Good eyes, Beckett." The tan line was faint enough to indicate it had been at least some weeks, if not months, since the victim had stopped wearing the ring but she had worn a ring. And an ex-fiancé would be a definite person of interest especially since statistically speaking, a woman was more likely to be killed by a significant other.

"I'll brief the Captain. You start looking into it."

"Yes, sir." She nodded briskly to hide the little thrill she felt, the surge of confidence, as she dove into work.

The case kept her too busy to think about anything else through the end of her shift and the general lift in her energy level and her mood lasted until she was approaching her dad's door that evening. God, she hated this, hated the way her heart seemed to sink with every step, the tension knotting up her stomach every time she saw her dad. She had picked up a pizza but she was starting to wonder how much she'd be able to eat with the way she was feeling.

It was just dinner. Well, dinner and a painful conversation she didn't want to have. But, she reminded herself, no matter how this went, even if the talk was brutal, as Castle had phrased it, it would just be a few hours. She just had to get through the next few hours and then she could go home to Castle and—

Wait, what? She mentally backtracked. When had she started to think of the loft as home? Except, no, that wasn't it either; it wasn't about the loft. It was about Castle and somehow, wherever he was, was home. Her haven.

She remembered his words, his promise. _If you need a shoulder to cry on, my shoulder is available to you at any time._

She clung to the thought of Castle, pasting on a smile as she knocked on her dad's door, which was quickly opened.

"Katie, I was just thinking it was time you were arriving," her dad greeted her just a touch too heartily.

"Well, here I am, Dad, and I brought pizza."

Her dad gave her a look of mock suspicion. "No pineapple on it though, right?"

She managed a light laugh. "No pineapple," she confirmed. "See?" She set the pizza down on the counter in her dad's kitchen and opened the box to reveal a vegetable and pepperoni pizza. With her hands free, she gave her dad a hug. "How was your day, Dad?"

"Busy. I had a couple conference calls but nothing too onerous. What would you like to drink, Katie?"

She tried to take some comfort out of the way she and her dad managed to move around each other easily as he took care of the drinks and she got out plates for the pizza and brought them over to the table.

They chatted idly, swapping stories from their respective days at work as they ate. She told her dad about the break in the case she had made, which her dad duly praised her for, and her dad told her briefly about some of his work. By some unspoken agreement, they both avoided any serious subjects while they were eating and only made small talk over the pizza and then the ice cream her dad had bought for their dessert.

Kate had started to relax marginally over the pizza when it became clear her dad wasn't going to broach the subject of his drinking just yet but felt the knot of tension returning as she ate the ice cream. Her dad was getting quieter, his expression a little more sober, and she could guess that he, too, was gearing himself up for this talk they needed to have, trying to plan his words. Oh god.

The table was cleared and then they sat down again in a silence that stretched on for what felt like an hour but was really only a few minutes as they each waited for the other to begin.

"Dad—"

"Katie—"

They both spoke at the same time, stopped, and exchanged faint smiles before her dad made a gesture with one hand for her to start.

Her mouth was dry and she took a gulp of water before saying, "I'm sorry I cut you off on Sunday."

Her dad sat forward. "No, Katie, I'm sorry. I think—I was too… abrupt. I should have realized…" He trailed off and then went on again, his voice a little shaky, "I know I hurt you, Katie."

She flinched. "No, dad," she denied automatically.

Her dad lifted a hand in a negating gesture and she stopped, biting her lip. "No, Katie, I know I did and I—I don't just mean on Sunday, I mean, in the last few years. I let you down."

She choked a little. He'd never said that before, not in so many words, and as true as they were, her first instinct was still to deny it. "Dad…"

Her dad let out an unsteady breath and then looked up at her and she realized with a shock of dismay that there were tears in his eyes.

Her own throat felt tight, clogged with the tears she refused to shed.

"I let you down, Katie… and in doing so, I—I let your mom down too. I was so lost in my grief, in missing your mom..."

The first sob broke free, tears springing to her eyes at the mention of her mom. Oh, she wanted her mom, missed her mom too. And she reached out, half-blinded by her tears, until she could grasp her dad's hand. His hand closed around hers with a strength that almost surprised her. For the first time in years, she and her dad shared the moment of grief, held onto each other through it—and found some measure of comfort.

"I lost sight of the fact that there was a part of her that lived on… you. You were the one who saved me, Katie."

She choked again, on guilt this time as well as grief, and for once she wasn't able to hold it back, had to admit what she'd done. "No, Dad. I _didn't_. I… left you. Stopped talking to you, left you alone." She _had_. She had realized she couldn't save him and had stopped trying. "I left you alone in the hospital." When he had fallen because he'd been drunk and been brought into the hospital, and she had been called as his emergency contact. She had gone to the hospital with Lanie, stayed only long enough to be told that his injuries—a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, some cuts and bruises—were not serious—and then she had left. Left him alone to the consequences of his drinking.

She hadn't saved him at all. She'd done what she had to do, accepted—finally—that she couldn't control her dad's drinking and she couldn't save him when he didn't want to be saved. But she'd still left him.

"No, Katie, you _did_ save me," her dad contradicted her with a force that surprised her. Now, in this, he was challenging her, calling her out? When it came to the one thing she was sure of, that she wasn't able to save him? That all her tears and pleading and anger had been futile? She was too completely at a loss to protest more—and it just hurt too much. "That's—I'm saying this wrong—but that's what I'm trying to tell you, that you were the one who saved me."

She shook her head violently but her dad persisted. "Katherine Beckett, listen to me!" For the first time in years, there was some crisp authority in his voice. The Dad voice from her teenage years.

She hadn't responded very well to it back then but now, now it shocked her into listening, as if some part of her old childhood self remained in the synapses of her brain and responded to the voice of authority.

"When I woke up in the hospital, I was sober. Fully sober for the first time in… I don't really remember." Regret colored her dad's voice. "A nurse came in and returned my watch—the watch you gave me—to me. I thanked her, told her it meant a lot to me because it was a gift from my daughter."

She bit back a sob. She hadn't known that, any of that.

"I remember… the nurse looked surprised but I didn't think anything of it until later. I was up to test my ankle and I overheard her talking to another nurse. Talking about you—me, really, that I valued the watch you gave me so much even though you didn't care enough to stay for more than a couple minutes and just left me alone in a hospital."

She choked, her hand jerking but her dad's grip was too tight for her to draw it back without using more force than she could ever use on her dad. Why was he telling her this—how was this supposed to make her feel better?

"It made me angry."

She flinched. "At me because I left you."

"No! It made me angry at the nurse! Just… listen to me, Katie. It—I don't really know how to explain it—but getting angry at the nurse—getting angry because someone criticized you—it… woke me up. I think… I'd forgotten… about being your dad, was so focused on what I'd lost. But that day, hearing these strangers criticize you—I remembered that I was your dad and I realized… realized just what a piss poor excuse for a father I'd been to you."

"Dad!" This time, the exclamation was one of shock at her dad's rare use of vulgarity.

Her dad ignored her interruption. "Don't you see, Katie, it was _you_ —thinking of you, wanting to defend you—that made me wake up, realize what I was doing to you, to myself, and that I needed to fix it. You were what saved me. Even though you weren't there— _because_ you weren't there—I realized that I'd left you first and you hadn't—you've never let me down. I was the one who let you down, Katie. I was too focused on my own grief that I… abandoned you in yours."

Another sob escaped her, the words—the truth of them—battering at her heart. She hadn't wanted to think like that but she _had_. She'd resented her dad, been so angry at him—and then felt guilty about it and that guilt had fed her guilt over leaving him alone too. Because it was hard to convince herself that she'd had no choice about leaving him, not trying to save him, when she couldn't help but feel like she was doing so out of resentment and not necessity. Her chest ached as if she'd cracked a rib, ached so much it hurt to breathe. "Dad…" The word was almost a wail.

Her dad reached out with his other hand so her hand was now cradled in both of his. She couldn't see through her tears but she could hear the tears, the emotion, in his voice and knew he was crying too. "I'm—I'm so sorry, Katie."

"Dad…" She broke. She tugged her hand out of his, scooting her chair around the table so she could lean into him, curl her arms around his neck and bury her face in his shoulder. Almost the way she had when she'd been a little girl able to curl up in her dad's lap. She felt her dad's arms go around her, hold her, and she broke down. She dissolved into tears and ugly, gasping sobs that she couldn't hold back as she cried into her dad's shoulder. Cried as she hadn't cried in years. Cried for all the years she'd been alone, cried for all regret and the guilt she'd felt about giving up on her dad, cried for all the hurt at the thought that she couldn't save her dad.

Her dad held her as she cried, his scent and the feel of his arms around her familiar and yet different too because now, she wasn't the little girl curled in her dad's lap—but for all that, just like when she had been that little girl, her dad's hug made her feel better. For the first time in years, she found comfort in her dad's arms, just as little Katie Beckett once had.

And afterwards, she felt… cleansed somehow, the tears cathartic.

She released her dad and straightened up, wiping the last of her tears off her face with her hand. And now that the storm was over, she felt the first return of self-consciousness. God, what was she doing, breaking down like that? She was a grown woman, a cop, and cops had no business crying like a baby.

She was thankful when her dad stood up, going into his room, and it gave her a chance to push herself to her own feet, using the kitchen sink to splash some water on her face, get control of herself once again. She felt a little shaky and exhausted from the paroxysm of emotion but as she calmed, she also felt… better.

She suddenly remembered how Castle had put it, that sometimes it was necessary for a bone to be rebroken and set again before it could heal properly.

That was what this conversation had been. It might have broken her heart but in some strange way, her heart, that she had hidden and guarded so well, needed to break before it could truly heal. Castle had been right.

The poison of believing she wasn't enough to save her dad, of blaming herself for leaving him, had been expelled and now, she thought, she could heal. More importantly perhaps, her relationship with her dad could heal.

Because now she understood what her dad meant when he said she had saved him. Somehow, by leaving him, she had saved him.

Her dad returned to the room and she could see that he, too, appeared to have splashed some water on his face and taken the time to calm himself a little.

And he was holding his watch, the watch she had given him.

He sat down again and met her eyes, looking tired and a little drawn, but his eyes were clear and steady. He looked… not peaceful but somehow eased, as if he had found some measure of acceptance, come to terms with the past, with all he had lost and all he'd done.

Some little piece of her worry, her fear, crumbled away. She wasn't optimistic enough or naive enough to believe that this conversation could solve everything, that she would never worry about her dad relapsing again. Healing—and learning to trust again—would take time. But for the first time, she thought she could see the light at the end of a long tunnel.

Her dad glanced down, ran his fingers over the face of the watch, and then met her eyes again. "I told myself that I would wear this watch again when I deserved to be your dad, when I'd made it up to you for letting you down for so many years." He paused and then handed the watch to her, curling her fingers around it and keeping them there. "I realized, though, that that's not the way this works. I can't go back and change the past. All I can do is move forward, change the future. It's why I want you to keep the watch now, Katie. For the life that you saved and gave back to me. Consider it my promise to do better from now on, not to let you down again."

She would have thought she had cried out all her tears but she found fresh tears pricking at her eyes. She unclasped her own watch, taking it off, and then replaced it with her dad's watch, clasping it around her wrist with a solemnity that usually attended a religious ritual.

She looked up to meet her dad's eyes and managed a faint, watery smile. She wanted to tell him that she believed him, that she forgave him, but as always, what she felt the most, she didn't have the words to say. All she finally found the voice to say was, "I love you, Dad."

Her dad gave her an equally shaky smile but his voice was sure. "I love you too, Katie-girl."

It was obviously not the first time she and her dad had exchanged those words since he'd become sober. But somehow, it felt as if it was. And in a way, it might have been the first time—the first time her dad had said the words and she'd truly believed him without reservation. It felt like a beginning.

A brief silence fell but it was easier now. She no longer felt the same need to fill up the silence with a spate of cheerful patter. They could just sit together, in silence, and try to regain their emotional equilibrium.

They both started a little as the silence was broken by her phone ringing and she hurried to answer it. "Beckett."

It was Hassan, letting her know that they had located the ex-fiancé and would be going to talk to him first thing tomorrow morning. There wasn't much for her to say, only to agree (as if she had a choice) and wish him a good night.

When she ended the call, she saw that her dad had stood up, was looking a little anxious. "Do you need to go into work?"

She managed a reassuring smile. "No, it was just Hassan telling me where to meet him tomorrow morning."

"Oh, okay. Does that mean you'll be making an early start tomorrow?"

She shrugged a little. "I'm used to it. Being a cop isn't a 9-to-5 job."

"No, it's not. But I don't want to keep you out any later if you have to get such an early start."

She didn't bother trying to protest, even if it wasn't actually that late, partly because it was… rather nice to have her dad once more in full 'Dad mode,' trying to take care of her (even if it was unnecessary) and partly because she was too drained to put up any protest.

She and her dad worked together in mostly comfortable silence to finish cleaning up, with her dad putting away the remnants of the pizza while she washed the dishes. She had just finished and was drying her hands when she abruptly found herself blurting out, "Dad, would you like to meet Castle and Alexis?"

Her dad blinked, clearly taken a little by surprise. "Oh."

"I want you to meet them," she corrected herself. Why was her heart rabbiting around in her chest like this? "They're important to me," she added, not quite smoothly, "so you should get to know them."

"I'd be happy to meet your Castle and Alexis."

That was easier to smile at. "Okay, good. I'll talk to Castle and we can try to figure out a day for us to meet, maybe over dinner one evening."

"That sounds great, Katie. I think I mentioned that I have a trial next week so I'll be busy but after that, my schedule will open up."

With that settled, it wasn't long before Kate was leaving her dad's place with a last hug and a promise to see him again for their usual dinner on Sunday. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't leave her dad with a sense of relief, at escaping from an excruciatingly uncomfortable situation.

But even so, she was glad to head towards home—to Castle.

The first floor of the loft was deserted when she let herself in using her key but a quick glance at her watch—her dad's watch—told her that Castle was most likely upstairs putting Alexis to bed. And so it proved when she padded quietly upstairs, after discarding her shoes and putting her gun away, to hear the indistinct rumble of Castle's voice that resolved into what she quickly identified was a story. He was reading aloud to Alexis from… _The Fellowship of the Ring_.

She felt a little twinge at the thought, the reminder, of what a good dad Castle was but it was a momentary thing that faded as she lingered in the hallway for a couple minutes listening to him. She still had her own dad and she could believe, now, that her relationship with her dad could really be healed, become comfortable again.

Castle read well, unsurprisingly. The inflections of his voice were dramatic at the appropriate times and he knew when to pause and when to linger over the words.

He finished and then she heard Alexis's voice pipe up. "Can you read one more chapter, please, Daddy? I'm not sleepy yet."

"That's what you said at the end of the last chapter, baby bird," Castle observed but Kate could tell from his tone that it was a token protest before he gave in.

She took that opportunity to show herself, sliding into the room. "I'd like to hear one more chapter too."

"Kate!" Alexis popped up in bed from where she'd been tucked against Castle's side. Castle was perched at the edge of her bed, his back against the headboard while Alexis was lying down.

"Nice entrance, Beckett," Castle greeted her lightly but his expression was sober, concerned, and she knew he was studying her face.

The warmth of Alexis's welcome kindled a glow in her chest and made it easier to flash Castle a quick, reassuring smile. "Hi, Alexis. Hey, you." She dropped a light kiss on first Alexis's hair and then Castle's before exchanging a smile with Alexis as she asked, "So, will you read us another chapter?"

Castle made a show of sighing. "I suppose I have to, since it's 2 against 1 now."

Alexis grinned triumphantly. "Yeah, 'cause girls stick together." She gave Kate a beaming smile and a high-five and then urged, "Sit down and get comfy, Kate." She suited action to the words by sliding back down in her bed.

Kate curled up on the floor beside Alexis's bed, facing Castle, and rested her head against his leg. He paused to give her a soft glimmer of a smile and squeeze her hand with his before he cleared his throat a little and began.

"'Chapter 8: Fog on the Barrow-Downs. That night they heard no noises. But in his dreams or out of them, he could not tell which, Frodo heard a sweet singing running in his mind…'"

Kate let her eyes close as she listened. Oh, she loved his voice. She wondered idly if he'd ever considered reading audiobooks because she, for one, would listen to anything he read.

It was also soothing in a way she couldn't quite describe to listen to his voice as he read from the timeless story, helped to smooth over some of the jagged edges of her emotions after her talk with her dad.

"'...Towards it they now hurried desiring only to find a fire, and a door between them and the night.'" Castle finished and then after a moment, went on, his tone becoming brisk, "Now, it's time to sleep."

"Mm-kay," Alexis agreed, her voice just a little slurred now with sleepiness. "Thanks for reading to me. Goo'night, Daddy, Kate."

Castle stood up and helped Kate to her feet as well. She touched her fingers lightly to Alexis's cheek. "Good night, Alexis."

Castle bent and kissed his daughter's forehead. "Good night, baby bird."

Alexis yawned a little, her eyes closing, as Castle and Kate turned off the light and quietly slipped out.

He waited until they were downstairs and curled up on the couch together before he gently turned her face towards him. "Your makeup is smeared. You've been crying," he observed quietly.

She quirked a faint smile. "Again with the detecting, Castle." Her smile faded as she added, "I talked to my dad."

"Mm." He made a noncommittal murmur but she noted that he was carefully not pushing, not asking if she wanted to talk about it. All he did was settle his arms around her, a wordless offer of support, of comfort.

She curved into his side, nestling her head against his shoulder. And answered his unspoken question with a quiet, "Can we talk later, not tonight?"

"Whatever you want." He tightened his arms around her and she felt him brush his lips against her hair.

For now, all she wanted was this, Castle's arms around her, his broad strength surrounding her, cosseting her. All she needed was him.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you all for reading and reviewing.


	44. Chapter 44

Author's Note: Another emotional chapter but with more fluff added too. Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 44_

The next day, they were able to arrest the ex-fiancé for the murder as he snapped quickly under the pressure of questioning. He had seen the victim out on a date with another man and had stewed about it for a couple days before going over to confront her and then killed her in the ensuing fight when he pushed her over making her hit her head on the corner of the table, killing her.

It was the sort of ugly, sordid murder that depressed her as another glimpse of just how terrible humanity could be. The sort of case that would once have made Kate open up a bottle of wine when she returned home and tried to put it out of her mind with some mindless TV or by reading a book, probably one of Castle's.

But that would have been then—before Castle. Now, there was no need to stay in her solitary apartment. Instead, she only stopped off at her apartment to pack a change of clothes for the next day, having realized the other day that she was out of clean work outfits at the loft. She debated for just a few seconds before deciding to pack some additional clothes as well. She had been careful so far to keep the number of items she kept at the loft to just enough for a few days, as if the need to return to her apartment for at least a couple nights a week provided some sort of safety. Instead, it had become an inconvenience. To say nothing of utterly ineffective if the point was to ensure that she didn't start to feel too at home in the loft.

Everything was different—better—now. It was not the first time she had realized it and she knew it wouldn't be the last but it occurred to her yet again that her life was just immeasurably better, happier, because of Castle and Alexis. It wasn't that she had been actively unhappy before, even a bare six months ago. (Had she really only met Castle seven months ago?) She would have said she was fine—had, in fact, insisted she was fine on her own whenever Lanie tried to set her up with someone. She had always said she neither wanted nor needed to be in a relationship, even if she had the time to date, which she doubted anyway. She had been content, had been accustomed to being alone and even told herself she preferred it. It was only the occasional bad day—like her birthday last year—when being alone had also felt lonely, bleak.

But then she'd met Castle. Gotten to know Castle and Alexis. Fallen in love with him, well, both of them. And now, everything was different. After a bad case, after a painful conversation with her dad, she didn't need to be alone. Instead, she could go to a warm and welcoming home with people who cared about her, to be enveloped and cosseted by affection, no, love.

And she could only hope desperately as she inserted her key into the door of the loft that nothing ever happened to make her lose this home.

As she'd expected, the moment she pushed open the door, she was caught up in the atmosphere of warmth, her mood automatically lifting.

"Kate, you're home and just in time for dinner!" Alexis bounced up out of her seat and flew across the front room of the loft to hug Kate and then grab her hand and tow her towards the table. ( _You're home_ , Alexis had said so naturally. Kate felt a little flutter in her chest.) "Daddy, set another place for Kate," she instructed, unnecessarily, as Castle was already in the kitchen to do just that.

"Impeccable timing, Detective," Castle greeted her as she arrived at the table.

"We're having tacos tonight," Alexis announced happily.

"That sounds great," Kate commented with a smile. "I knew there was a reason I wanted to come here."

Castle affected a beleaguered sigh as he handed Kate her plate. "I knew it, you just come here for the food."

Kate smirked at him but softened to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, mindful of Alexis's presence. "Hi, Castle."

"You sounded more enthusiastic about the tacos than you do to see me," he pretended to pout.

She threw a wink at Alexis as she quipped, "That's because I'm hungry. Unless you'd rather I nibble on you?"

She realized belatedly how her words could be interpreted when he choked on air, shooting her a look that had her flushing hotly. She hadn't meant it like that, not in front of Alexis! Oops.

Fortunately, Alexis was too young and too innocent to understand and only laughed. "Like the Donner Party!"

Castle gave an exaggerated shudder of horror. "Ugh, please, no, not like the Donner Party."

"I haven't heard the Donner Party mentioned in years," Kate commented, getting a hold of herself. "How do you know about it, Alexis?"

"We learned about it in school," Alexis answered easily.

She should have guessed that.

Alexis changed the subject, asking, "Did you catch a killer today, Kate?" The question was bright and eager, as if asking about murder was a completely normal dinner table topic for a kid.

"Ah, yes, actually, I did."

"That's so cool, Kate!"

"Yeah, Kate's pretty awesome," Castle interjected, his tone light but his expression was utterly sincere and Kate fought a blush. She refused to blush like some pre-teen girl over a compliment from a cute boy. Even if Castle was cute. ( _Not helping._ )

"You really are like Batman, putting bad guys away," Alexis enthused. As if there was any doubt that she was Richard Castle's daughter.

"I write about catching bad guys. Isn't that cool too?" Castle inserted, affecting a pout.

A smirk tugged at Alexis's mouth as she pretended to think about it. "No, because you write about fake stuff. It's not real."

Castle made a show of horror, falling back with a dramatic gesture as if to ward off evil spirits. "Begone, thou blasphemer!"

Alexis collapsed into giggles at his histrionics and Kate laughed along with her. Which was, of course, his intention.

"What does that mean, Daddy? What's a blast-femur?"

Castle sobered. "A blas-phe-mer," he enunciated the word slowly, "is someone who says something that's blasphemy. Do you remember that word, pumpkin? I told you it awhile ago."

"Blasphemy," Alexis repeated slowly, her forehead crinkling into a little frown of concentration.

Castle waited and after a moment, Alexis answered slowly, "It's saying something bad, right?"

"Right, good start, pumpkin, now the rest of the definition," he prompted. "It's saying something bad about…?"

Alexis threw him a small scowl at his persistence and not simply telling her but Castle was proof against the look and Kate bit her lip to keep from smiling and from blurting out a hint. It wouldn't be fair to undercut Castle like that. And she knew that Castle wouldn't leave Alexis to flounder for long if she were truly stumped.

"Saying something bad about… something really important?" Alexis guessed.

"Close enough," Castle relented. "Technically, it's saying something bad about a person's religion but that was good, pumpkin."

"Yes, nice job, Alexis," Kate echoed.

Alexis brightened up. "Okay. But I wasn't saying blasphemy, Daddy."

Kate smirked at Castle. Alexis had him there. "No, of course you weren't," she sided with Alexis. "Your dad was just being silly. As usual."

Alexis laughed at that. "Yeah, Daddy is silly a lot."

"Alexis, why don't you tell Kate about what you're going to be doing from Monday?" Castle jumped in, changing the subject.

"Ooh, yeah, it's going to be so much fun, Kate!" Alexis started as she proceeded to regale Kate with the daycamp at the zoo she would be going to where she would get to interact with some of the animals and go around with the zookeepers and watch them do their jobs and even help out and learn more about the animals.

Alexis's anticipation carried them through dinner on the flood of excited words during which Alexis only paused to eat two tacos, although Kate noted that for all her excitement, Alexis remembered her table manners and didn't speak with her mouth full and was punctilious about wiping her mouth and hands. (Yes, Castle had done a good job with her. For all Castle's show of silliness, he had done his part to instill good manners in his daughter.)

After dinner, Kate was pleasantly surprised to find that Castle had again made his special tiramisu for dessert (while Alexis had ice cream). "You know what, I take it back. I definitely come here for the food," Kate quipped.

Castle pretended to sigh. "I knew it. I feel so used. You only like me for my cooking and not my ruggedly handsome good looks."

Kate laughed and Alexis pretended to scold, "Don't be so vain, Daddy."

"It's not vanity if everyone says I'm ruggedly handsome," Castle argued with mock pettishness. "Now eat your ice cream before it melts, daughter."

Alexis gave him a smile at that. "Yes, father."

Kate hid a smile in her tiramisu that was forgotten as she took the first bite of tiramisu, the biscuit and cream infused with the taste of espresso almost melting in her mouth. Oh, she'd almost forgotten just how good his tiramisu was.

She opened her eyes that had fluttered closed to see him watching her, his eyes dark with arousal (oh, she had moaned a little, hadn't she?), a small soft smile playing around his lips. Something about his smile, the way he was watching her, made her suspect that he'd made the tiramisu for her, to brighten her mood after her talk with her dad yesterday.

She really did love him, didn't she?

With Alexis right there, she couldn't kiss him the way she wanted to so instead she settled for curling one arm briefly around his neck and kissing his cheek, pausing to whisper in his ear, "Remind me to thank you later."

He coughed and shot her a private look that told her he would definitely hold her to the promise.

Fortunately, Alexis, in all innocence, took that moment to propose watching a movie, which provided a distraction and they migrated with their desserts in hand to the couch while Alexis picked the old Disney classic, "Bedknobs and Broomsticks."

Once she was done with her ice cream, Alexis quite naturally curled into her dad's side as Castle put his arm around her, his hand brushing against Kate's shoulder. Kate lifted her hand to grasp his and then settled in to watch the movie.

When the movie ended, she accompanied Castle upstairs to tuck Alexis into bed and stayed as Castle read aloud the next chapter in _The Fellowship of the Ring_ and afterwards, again, she and Castle took turns in wishing Alexis a good night. It was all so… _homey_ and family-like and frightening and wonderful.

Castle stopped in the hallway and crowded her against the wall as he kissed her long and thoroughly so that by the time he lifted his head, her knees were feeling a little wobbly and her brain had gone blank. He quirked his eyebrows up in a faint smirk as if he knew exactly what effect he had on her (which he very likely did, drat the man). "Because I didn't get to kiss you properly earlier."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "Happy now?"

"It'll do for now," he said with mock solemnity and she laughed softly as they went downstairs and she tucked herself against his side on the couch.

They didn't speak for a few minutes but then after a while, he broke the silence. "Is your dad okay?"

She nodded against his shoulder, letting out a somewhat shaky breath. "Yeah."

"Are you?"

She shifted until she was leaning back against him and he rearranged his arms around her as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm… getting there," she answered honestly.

He was silent for a while and then he ventured, "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

She did want to talk about it—or she thought she did and she had sort of promised she would—but she wasn't sure she knew how. Talking about things like this, something so personal, was not her strong suit, to say the least. She'd never really talked to anyone about her dad, not at any length. Captain Montgomery—and Royce—knew the bare facts of her dad's troubles because they had both been there when she had arrested her dad and put him in the drunk tank. Lanie knew a little more, a sketchy outline, because Kate had been meeting up with Lanie when she'd received the call from the hospital about her dad and Lanie had gone with her. Aside from them, she hadn't told anyone about her dad—except Castle, she realized with an inward start. Even that first day they met, she had shared at least the basic facts about her dad's troubles with Castle. And now, she had already told Castle more than she'd ever told anyone else about her dad. She trusted him.

"I'm not sure I know where to start," she finally sighed. The details of what her dad had said, his story of his hospital stay, that all seemed too personal, something that should be kept between her and her dad. But the gist of their conversation, that she could tell.

After a moment, he moved a hand to gently tap her dad's watch on her wrist. "You're wearing your dad's watch now."

Of course he would notice. She turned her head to look down at her wrist and then moved her other hand to curl protectively around the watch. "I gave this to him for Father's Day years ago. It was the first gift I got for him entirely with my own money. He wore it every day for years…" She trailed off on a small sniff and Castle responded by cuddling her closer. She wouldn't have expected to like it but somehow, it helped.

"He said that he wanted me to wear it now… for the life that I saved. He said…" her breath hitched a little, "thinking of me was what saved him, made him get sober…"

"I believe him," Castle murmured quietly. "A father would do anything for his daughter."

She didn't know why but somehow those words were what made tears well up and overflow, hot silent tears sliding down her cheeks. She turned her head into his shoulder but he went a step further, picking her up until she was cradled on his lap. At any other time, she might have objected to being handled so summarily but at the moment, she didn't have either the energy or the inclination to protest, only buried her face against the collar of his shirt as her quiet tears dampened the fabric.

God, she was crying more in the past couple days than she had in years. And she wasn't even sure why she was crying now, except that she'd thought for so many years that her dad might love her but not enough to stop drinking. And now, she could believe that wasn't true. Her dad did love her, full stop. It might have taken more time, been harder, than she would have imagined but she could believe that her dad had, after all, stopped drinking for love of her. And she felt an old, old wound start to heal.

Her tears didn't last for long and she was a little abashed at dissolving so pitifully over just a few words when she lifted her head. But all she managed to say, lamely, was, "I got your shirt wet."

"It'll dry," he answered with an earnestness her words didn't deserve. He slid his hand up to cup the back of her neck, gently urging her closer until he could kiss her, softly, on the lips first and then gentle touches of his lips to her cheeks as if to kiss away the trace of her tears.

Afterwards, she settled her head against his shoulder, surprisingly content to stay in his lap, leaning against the broad bulk of his chest. It was comforting, calming in some way, to be held like this. She felt safe, protected, in his arms and it might be an illusion and she was, after all, the one who normally did the protecting, but she liked it, liked feeling safe, as if she could let down her guard.

She had, she realized, almost forgotten—or blocked from her memory—what it was like to be comforted by someone else when she cried. She hadn't had anyone to comfort her when she cried since her mom had died. She was out of the habit of letting anyone even see her when she was vulnerable, let alone allowing someone to comfort her.

But she was starting to realize that it was… easier to fall when there was someone there to catch you.

And something about the realization made her feel a new empathy for her dad, for what he had lost. She hadn't thought about it before, in all this time when she had been so hurt and so angry and so disappointed in her dad. She'd been thinking of herself, of what she had lost, first in losing her mom and then in not having her dad to rely on. She had been so used to thinking of her dad as a pillar of calm strength, the way he had been to her when she was growing up, the way he had been to her mom, she knew, when he had been the one to stay calm in the face of her mother's more volatile personality. And then she had blamed him for showing his weakness, for not being there for her.

What she hadn't realized was that her dad must have relied on her mom too, that her mom would have been the person to comfort her dad when he needed it. And in losing her mom, her dad would have also lost the one person who might have been able to comfort him in the wake of such a devastating loss.

"I've been so mad at him," she admitted softly. "But I think… I've been unfair."

Castle sighed and tightened his arms around her. "You're allowed to feel angry, Kate. We all have a right to our emotions."

In some corner of her mind, she registered that he had once written something similar in one of his earlier books, at the moment, she couldn't remember which one. But it served as a brief distraction, a reminder that there had been something in Castle's books, the mind revealed through his books, that had resonated with her in a way that the other contemporary mystery writers like Patterson and Connelly, legends though they might be and as much as she enjoyed their books, had not.

Her mom had formed a positive impression of Castle as a person because of his books too. Yes, her mom really would have liked Castle.

She found herself thinking about finding her mom's bookmarked copy of _At Dusk We Die_ after her mom's death, the way she had gone out to the cemetery after her mom's funeral with the book in hand to tell her mom the solution to the mystery and read the last chapter of the book aloud.

The reminder of her mom's funeral led to other memories, memories that, she realized, had lost some of their sting now.

She had never told anyone about this, never even imagined telling anyone, but it occurred to her that maybe now, she could. To Castle, who would understand.

"After my mom's funeral," she began quietly and felt the slight increase in tension in Castle's body, the way he tightened his arms around her more protectively and almost seemed afraid to breathe too loud for fear it would interrupt her. Oh, this man. "A bunch of people came over to our apartment to talk, share memories of my mom. But my dad and I managed to escape. We took the train all the way out to Coney Island, walked along the beach for hours still in our funeral clothes. It was deserted because it was January and freezing cold but my dad and I didn't care, we'd just wanted to get away, wanted the solitude."

Or at least she had. Her memories of the days immediately after her mom's death were somewhat blurry, a jumbled kaleidoscope of agony, but what she did remember was the feeling of always being surrounded by people. From the first day afterwards, when her dad had started on the bleak task of making phone calls to tell people of her mom's death, she and her dad had received what seemed like a never-ending stream of visitors as the news spread. It had seemed as if everyone they had ever known had felt the need to visit, most of them bearing food (as if she and her dad had any interest in food) and all of them expressing trite platitudes. Lame words of sympathy over an inexpressible, unimaginable tragedy, an attempt to help them bear the unbearable. So many people talking at her with their well-meaning, ineffective words. She knew they were well-meaning but oh, she'd been so tired of all the people, the condolence visits, until she remembered feeling as if she could either scream or break something. Those hours on the beach at Coney Island had felt like the first time in weeks of misery, even if it had only been a few days, where she hadn't had people talking at her.

She had mostly avoided remembering that visit to Coney Island for years, had not been back there since, because the reminder of her dad had been too painful but now, the memories came back. The weight of her dad's arm around her shoulders as they walked, the way the wind had buffeted them and wreaked havoc on her hair. And the little stick-man she and her dad had made from the flotsam on the beach. She had put it away in one of the boxes with things from her parents' old apartment, mementos of her mother. In her lowest moments, when she'd been angriest at her dad, she had even considered throwing it out, discarding it as lightly as her dad had discarded his promise to her—as she'd thought—but she had never been able to throw out anything relating to her parents and now she was glad she hadn't. It seemed precious now, a tangible reminder of her dad and the promise he'd made and—she believed—would keep from now on.

"We didn't talk much but my dad said—he promised—that we were going to be okay, that we would get through it together." She broke off, choking a little on remembered bitterness. Castle ran a soothing hand up and down her back and she swallowed. "But then I had to go back to Stanford and…"

"I always knew you were brilliant," Castle murmured as she paused, his first interruption in a while and though she didn't mind, it made her dart a glance at him and he made an apologetic face and mimed zipping his lips. Ridiculous man that he was but she felt a little tendril of amusement mingled with affection sprout inside her and it helped.

"I think my dad just couldn't handle being alone. He—he started to drink and I… I was across the country, didn't really know how badly he was struggling and he never told me. I transferred to NYU to be closer from the fall semester but even then, he was good at hiding it for a long time and I was too slow to realize…" She faltered again, shoving down the regret, the residual guilt, she still felt at the thought of that time. She had been so slow, too slow, to realize the extent of her dad's struggles, partly because he had been able to hide it for months but also because she just hadn't been able to wrap her brain around the fact that the steady, reliable dad she remembered from growing up was not at all steady, could be so weak. She still found herself wondering sometimes, in spite of everything, if she could have helped, if she could have done something, if only she'd realized sooner just how badly her dad was spiraling down.

No, no, she wasn't doing that again, not going back down that road.

"It took me years but finally I realized what he was doing and that I couldn't save him. I tried for a long time but nothing ever worked and finally, I just… stopped. Gave up, left him alone to deal with the consequences."

She turned her face into Castle's shoulder again to hide the tears pricking at the back of her eyes at the memory of that time, how painful the decision had been, and felt Castle press his lips against her hair.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved, Kate," he murmured.

She stilled. That… sounded like the voice of experience. She lifted her head to meet his eyes and he made a small rueful grimace.

"You know, I published my first book when I was in college. And it becoming a bestseller meant instant fame and fortune. It was… kind of crazy and it went to my head and it was easy to fall into the party lifestyle. I saw some things, did some things…" He broke off and made a face. "Well, you can imagine. I think the only thing that really kept me grounded at all was Kyra." He stopped again, his expression changing in a way she couldn't quite describe. "Old girlfriend, doesn't matter," he explained quickly, although from his tone, she guessed that this Kyra had, in fact, mattered a great deal. That he'd loved her. She felt a little niggle of jealousy slither through her—but she stamped it out fiercely. No, she refused to feel jealous of an ex-girlfriend from a decade ago, especially when he had clearly moved on, had loved and married Meredith after that and she knew how that had ended.

"Anyway, I saw enough to learn that you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved," he finished. His expression and his tone changed, softened, as he met her eyes. "You might think you're a super-hero but not even you could save someone who doesn't want to be saved. And I think… I'm sure your dad would tell you the same thing."

He really did understand, didn't he?

She remembered what her dad had said, that because she hadn't been there, he had realized how he had let her down. It had taken her not being there when her dad was in the hospital before he had really woken up.

She let out a somewhat shaky sigh. "I think you're right. He said… he told me that my leaving him was what made him realize what he was doing." She managed a watery sort of smile. "It's why he wanted me to wear his watch, as a symbol of his promise to do better."

"I'm glad," Castle said simply, but the look in his eyes made the words seem eloquent. They were so soft, so tender. He lifted one hand so his fingertips brushed her cheekbones and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with ineffable gentleness. She was suddenly reminded, strangely, of a time when her mom had come into her bedroom to comfort her when her pre-teen self had been crying over something, she didn't remember what. Her mom had perched on the edge of the young Katie's bed and smoothed her hand over Kate's hair with the same sort of tenderness.

And maybe it wasn't so strange to be reminded of her mom right now because her mom had been the last person whom she had allowed to comfort her when she was crying.

She lifted her hand to hold his against her cheek and then turned her face to kiss his palm. She felt the usual spasm of grief tightening her chest at the memory of her mom but she realized, slowly, that missing her mom hurt a little less, here with someone she loved and who loved her. (She really did believe he loved her. It was in his eyes, in his voice, in his touch.)

"My dad said he'd like to meet you," she blurted out without preamble. "And Alexis too, of course."

"Naturally Alexis too. That way, your dad's guaranteed to like at least one of us," Castle responded lightly enough but she inwardly frowned, wondering if there might still be a kernel of sincerity, if he really was nervous about meeting her dad.

"He'll like you, Castle, but even if he didn't, it wouldn't really matter, you know that, right? Because I like you."

A soft smile curved his lips. "That's good because I like you a lot too."

She bit back a snicker, suddenly, ridiculously reminded of middle school and whispering with her friends about liking a boy. "Who said anything about liking you a lot?" she quipped instead.

He pouted and this time, she did snicker before kissing the pout from his lips, kissing him long and slow, with all the love she felt. When she drew back, it was his turn to need to blink a few times before his somewhat dazed eyes cleared. (God, he was adorable like this.)

"My dad's going to be busy with a trial next week but after that, I was thinking maybe we could all go out to dinner somewhere?" She had briefly considered inviting her dad here to the loft but decided that maybe, meeting for the first time on neutral territory as it were would be better, not that she expected it to go badly but it also just seemed like meeting in Castle's home would increase the pressure and make things more awkward than they might otherwise be.

"That sounds great. Just pick a place and a day and Alexis and I will be there with bells on."

She laughed softly. "How about we go to Mirabelli's?" Where she had met up with Castle and Alexis for their first dinner. The food had been good and the atmosphere welcoming and not too loud and bustling.

"That's perfect. You really are brilliant."

She hid a smile. "It's picking a restaurant, not coming up with the theory of relativity."

He shrugged. "Eh, that's just because Einstein got there first."

She laughed. Ridiculous man. "I think you're taking your penchant for hyperbole way too far."

"Your vocabulary is so hot, you know that?" was his response before he suited action to the words and kissed her, hard and deep.

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back and then, before she fully realized what was happening, his hands were sneaking their way under the hem of her shirt and then he was shifting, pressing her back into the cushions of the couch. She honestly couldn't be sure which one of them gasped out, "bed," but then they were stumbling through the loft together until they were in his bedroom and falling onto his bed. And then there were no more words, just more kisses and touches and wordless gasps. There was only _them_ , just him and her, together.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: As always, thank you to all readers and reviewers!


	45. Chapter 45

Author's Note: I think this chapter turned out the way I was hoping it would but I leave that to you to decide.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 45_

The next Monday evening found Kate staring at the murder board in the precinct, hoping that somehow, looking at the disparate pieces of evidence together would make some theory fall into place to explain why a stable, mild-mannered tax accountant who appeared to live a completely unremarkable, even boring life ended up murdered. Hassan was at his desk reviewing some of the witness statements, his way of trying to jog something loose, while she had found she preferred the murder board.

Kate started as her phone beeped and checked it to see a text from Castle. _Can you come over?_ She mentally frowned a little, wondering. Not that his asking if she could come over was unusual but she had already texted him a couple hours ago to let him know she wouldn't be able to make it for dinner because of her case and Castle usually didn't push for more, had been good about respecting her work.

Hassan had looked up as well at the sound of her phone and he stood up and came over now. "Any new insights, Beckett?"

She suppressed the urge to grimace, only clipped out succinctly, "Unfortunately not, sir."

He sighed. "All right. I'm pulling a blank too. Well, you might as well head home now. Maybe sleeping on it will give us some fresh perspective in the morning."

"I don't mind staying longer."

Hassan cracked a faint smile. "You might not but I do. We're spinning our wheels here so go home, Beckett. We'll pick this up again first thing tomorrow morning."

She still hesitated, although she couldn't deny that it had been a long day and tiredness was starting to drag at her after more than 12 hours in the precinct. "If you're sure, sir."

"Do I have to repeat myself? Go on, get out of here."

She relaxed enough to flash him a quick smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Have a good night, Beckett."

She sent Castle a quick text letting him know she was on her way and then she was packing up her things and heading out.

There was some after-dinner traffic to navigate but she was still walking through the front lobby of Castle's building before too long and she was glad because it meant she still had some time to spend with Alexis before the girl's bedtime.

She let herself into the loft, only to pause in surprise when she found that it was dark inside, all the lights off, so the only illumination came from the ambient light from outside. Huh. This was strange. Castle had texted to ask her to come over so why would he and Alexis have left?

She felt a tiny twinge of concern, not quite edging over into worry, because she had seen too much of other people coming home to find the worst imaginable nightmare. "Castle? Alexis?" And that was when she heard it, a smothered sound like a laugh. Castle.

Okay, then, clearly this was part of some plan. Typical Castle. But she felt a small indulgent smile curving her lips anyway, secure in the knowledge that he couldn't see it, and it was enough to keep her from flicking on the lights. No need to ruin whatever he had in mind.

She slipped off her shoes and ventured forward to the couch, only to stop as she noticed what was draped over the back of it. A black… vest and a mask? With a white index card balanced on top and written on the card, in Castle's blocky handwriting, were the words, _Put this on._

She set the index card aside to pick up the vest, some understanding dawning on her. This wasn't just a vest; it was a laser-tag vest, and her guess was proven right when she noticed what else was balanced on the back of the couch. A laser gun.

Only Castle. Who else would think to buy a high-end laser tag set to play at home?

She hadn't played laser tag in years but she was smiling as she shrugged on the vest, slipped the mask over her head, and picked up the gun. "You realize you're crazy, right?" she spoke aloud to Castle, wherever he was.

"Wait and see before judging, Detective," came his disembodied voice from the darkness. She wasn't quite oriented to the loft in this darkness yet so she couldn't guess where exactly he was hiding. "And prepare to get your ass kicked."

Oh, so that was how he wanted to play it, was it? As if she was going to let him win.

Even as she thought it, she heard Alexis's voice emerge from the darkness. "Bad word, Daddy."

She smothered a laugh. And that was Alexis, still keeping her dad in line even while she participated in this sort of surprise.

"You get a dollar, pumpkin," Castle acknowledged. "But first, prepare to lose, Beckett."

"You're the one who's going to lose, Castle," she taunted.

"Game on, Detective. May the best man win."

Kate slipped the mask over her eyes, pointed the laser gun and fired in the vague direction of his voice before crouching and slinking into the nearest corner, and with that, the game was on.

For all of Kate's bravado, she had to admit that it was a challenge. For one thing, she was out of practice at something like laser tag. And Castle, by contrast, was good at this, having clearly practiced quite a bit, and he had the advantage of knowing every inch of the loft in a way she didn't, knew its nooks and crannies and every angle from which to attack. Alexis was no slouch either, taking advantage of her smaller size to squeeze into places neither Kate nor Castle could fit into, to say nothing of her quickness and surprising stealth.

But in the end, Kate did manage to win, reflecting with some amusement that the NYPD probably never considered that benefit of tactical training. She was also nicely assisted by Alexis, who readily followed Kate's cues and distracted Castle with a barrage of laser shots that mostly missed but served their purpose, allowing Kate to sneak in with the deciding shot that made Castle's vest light up like some sort of neon Christmas tree.

He attached a napkin to the end of his gun and stuck it out, waving it around. "All right, truce! You win."

He flicked on the lights and Kate emerged from her corner while Alexis wriggled out from her corner between the wall and the wine cooler. Castle stood up from his place crouching behind the couch and moved to collapse on it with an exaggerated groan of relief, as he pushed his mask up off his face.

Kate smirked as she looked down at his recumbent form. "Told you I'd win."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Gloating is not attractive. Anyway, it wasn't fair because you both banded together to ambush me." He directed his mock glare to Alexis, who had joined them, looking, Kate noted with some amusement, like a kind of pint-sized commando with her vest, mask, and gun. She must have changed specifically for this because she was dressed all in black, her hair tied back into a pony-tail. She was adorable.

Castle lifted a hand to his head in a gesture of histrionic distress as he heaved a sigh. "Oh, how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is… to have a daughter who gangs up on me in laser tag."

She snickered. "I don't think that's what King Lear said. But Alexis makes a great wing-woman, right, Alexis?"

Alexis grinned. "Yeah, we did good together."

Castle winced a little. "You did _well_ , not good."

Alexis ignored this correction to give Kate a high-five. "We made a great team, Kate!"

Kate teasingly flicked the girl's pony-tail. "Thanks to you being so quick. And Castle, you ambushed me first with springing this on me out of the blue."

Castle threw her a mock scowl. "It wasn't an ambush. It was a _surprise_. There's a difference."

"You say potato," Kate shrugged.

Alexis giggled at the face Castle made. "Me and Daddy—I mean, Daddy and I have been playing laser tag for years."

"I usually win," Castle announced.

"Nuh uh," Alexis quickly shot back. "I won the last two times!"

"Yes, you did. I stand corrected," Castle conceded, his expression softening as it always did when he smiled at his daughter. He addressed Kate, although he kept his eyes on Alexis. "Don't let the innocent face fool you. She's super sneaky and cunning." His tone made the words a boast.

Kate hid a smile. "I'm sure she is." She shrugged out of the vest. "I guess this must be your grandmother's vest?"

Alexis laughed and Castle gave a look of exaggerated horror. "The idea!" He fluttered a hand dramatically as he intoned, with a passable imitation of Martha's air and mannerisms, if not exactly her voice, "Darling, black is simply not my color! And this vest, there's no style, no glamour!"

Kate laughed but teased, "Yeah, I think the acting ability skipped a generation."

He stuck his tongue out at her, mature grown man that he was. "To answer your question, Beckett, we got the vest for you this past weekend. We needed to go to the store because Alexis had almost grown out of her old vest and needed a new one."

"It was my idea to get you a vest and a laser gun, Kate," Alexis inserted, leaning against Kate's side. "I thought you should have one so you can play with us. And you had fun, right, Kate?"

Kate slipped her arm around Alexis's shoulders. "Yeah, I had fun." She had never imagined her heart fluttering in her chest over laser tag but then again, she'd never imagined becoming part of a family like this one either. She could almost imagine that the warmth she felt from Alexis's small body tucked against her side travelled up to coil around her heart, suffused her chest. Because what was underlying Alexis's words, her actions, was an expectation that Kate would stick around, that she would be here in the months and years to come to play laser tag with them. _You're home_ , Alexis had said last week—and now, again, Alexis was demonstrating all over again just how sincerely she'd meant it. She didn't think Alexis fully realized the implications of her words but Kate only had to glance at Castle to know that he did and he was on board with it. Just as he'd given her a key to the loft.

"My very own laser tag gear. Wow, thanks," she managed to say, trying to sound light even as her heart was suddenly in her throat. It was, she realized, probably the first gift that Castle had bought her, unless you counted the cupcake he had bought her for her birthday the day they'd met. Aside from the occasional meal, he hadn't actually bought her anything since they'd started dating. And while she didn't know for sure, she could imagine that high-end laser tag gear of this sort, complete with light-and-sound effects, had to cost a fair amount. Nothing considering Castle's wealth—about which she was under no delusions after their trip to the Hamptons—but still, this was no cheap trinket of a gift. And the real significance was in its implications anyway.

By the sound of it, laser tag was a family tradition, something that had been reserved for Castle and Alexis for years. And now, they were bringing her into this tradition too.

It wasn't a request to move in with him, let alone a ring, but for the first time, it occurred to her to wonder, to think, if that was where Castle saw their relationship going. (And why oh why was the thought not terrifying? Her heart might be thrashing around as if it was trying to escape the confines of her chest but the predominant emotion she felt was not fear. It was something different. It was… hope… Oh god…)

Castle stood up, sliding his arm around her waist to tug her against him, or rather against his vest since he was still wearing it. "Am I forgiven for the ambush?"

"I'll consider it," she quipped, "if you give me ice cream to celebrate my victory."

He grinned and bent to kiss her quickly. "Done."

"Can I have ice cream too?" Alexis chimed in. "Please?"

Castle glanced at Kate as they all turned to walk towards the kitchen. "What do you think, Kate?"

Kate pretended to ponder the question. "Well, Alexis did help me win…"

"But it's almost bedtime and she shouldn't have sugar right before bed," he countered, although Kate could see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Daddy!" Alexis threw her dad a reproachful look.

"How about this, Alexis, you can have a couple bites of mine?" Kate suggested. "That way, you still get some victory ice cream but not too much."

"Yes, thank you, Kate!" Alexis's smile dimmed as she remembered that it wasn't exactly up to Kate. "Can I, Daddy?"

"Well, Kate did win so for tonight, she's the boss," Castle agreed.

"Yeah!" Alexis's smile was restored to its former brightness while Kate and Castle exchanged quick smiles.

Eating the victory ice cream was a merry experience and Kate could only think, as she met Castle's smiling eyes over Alexis's bright head that this really was all she wanted.

* * *

She and Hassan managed to solve the case the next day. It turned out to have been a classic wrong place, wrong time situation so the victim had been killed because he had inadvertently been a witness to another crime, which they hadn't been immediately aware of because the intended victim in that crime had only been wounded and managed to make it a few blocks away before collapsing. The hospital he had been taken to had reported it to the NYPD but the report had gone to the 29th precinct which covered the hospital. Montgomery suggested checking the other neighboring precincts for any potentially related incidents and she caught the report at the 29th, noting the cross streets for where the victim had collapsed. And thanks to Hassan's years in the force, it turned out he knew the detective at the 29th assigned to the case so cooperation was easier than usual.

Solving the case meant that Wednesday was a paperwork day and as tedious as paperwork days generally were. But the one benefit to a paperwork day was that it meant she could leave the precinct at the end of her shift and get to the loft in time to have dinner with Castle and Alexis. This whole having a life outside of work thing was nice. And as always, having dinner with Castle and Alexis was wonderful.

Alexis, as if to demonstrate yet again that she was Richard Castle's daughter, asked Kate about her latest case and Kate gave a simplified account of the case and the inter-precinct cooperation that had been involved to Alexis's wide-eyed interest and Castle's unhidden fascination.

Kate then changed the subject to ask Alexis about her day at the zoo in her day camp and Alexis started happily enthusing about how she got to help feed the penguins today.

She had just started talking about the time spent with the foxes when Castle abruptly shoveled two mouthfuls of food into his mouth with unseemly haste and then he pushed his chair back and ran into his office, swinging the door mostly closed behind him.

Kate blinked after him and then exchanged an amused look with Alexis. "Maybe your dad was inspired by the penguins and Derrick Storm will have to fight some penguins," she quipped.

Alexis giggled but then added with comical seriousness, "But penguins are so cute! They're too cute to be the bad guys."

Kate laughed and couldn't help but think that Alexis herself was cuter than any penguin. "Well, since your dad's deserted us, I guess we'll just have a girls' night tonight, huh, Alexis?"

"Yeah! And can we do girly stuff since Daddy's not around?" Alexis asked hopefully.

"We can do whatever you want, Alexis," Kate agreed. Alexis didn't often say anything to indicate that she felt the absence of her mother on a daily basis, probably because she was used to it, but every once in a while, things slipped out that hinted at it.

"Do you know how to do a French braid?"

"Yes, I think I remember how to French braid. Do you want me to do your hair in a French braid?"

Alexis's face lit with so much gratitude it made Kate's heart clench. "Oh, could you really? Thank you! One of the other girls in the zoo camp had her hair in a French braid today and I thought it looked so cool but when I asked Daddy, he said he didn't know how to do a French braid. He can do regular braids and pigtails," Alexis added, trying to be fair, as usual.

"Of course. I'll do your hair after dinner. And then how about we finish off our girls' night by painting our nails?"

"Oh, yes, that would be great!" Alexis's smile could have illuminated the Empire State Building and Kate found herself thinking that that might be the most obvious legacy the girl had received from Castle, aside from the so-blue eyes, that capacity for joy. Castle and Alexis both had that knack of finding joy in the little things, looking at the world with wonder. If Kate had ever had that sort of instinctive capacity for joy, it had died on that cold January day along with her mom, and while she couldn't say that spending time with Castle and Alexis had given her that same sort of happy spirit—she'd been too badly scarred by the years and by her work—but at least, their joy provided a sort of reflected glow that brightened up her life.

And so a girls' night, it was. Alexis picked " _Beauty and the Beast_ " as the movie to watch, in keeping with the theme, as it were, and then Kate had Alexis sit on the floor in front of her and started to French braid Alexis's silky, straight hair. Memories of her own mom doing her hair when she'd been much younger returned to her. The feel of her mom's slender fingers weaving through her hair. The way her mom would teasingly use the end of young Katie's ponytail to tickle her nose sometimes, when she thought the young Katie was being too serious.

It seemed to be happening more and more, revisiting some childhood activity with her mom only now she was the one in the mom role and Alexis was in the role of her younger self. The reminders made her miss her mom all the more, that dull ache of missing her intensifying, but it also made her feel closer to her mom somehow. It was easier to imagine what her mom would have thought and felt in those times. It was poignant and also precious.

After Alexis's hair was braided and Alexis had checked its appearance in the mirror and thanked Kate with another brilliant smile and a hug, they briefly paused the movie while they sorted through nail polish upstairs. Somewhat to Kate's surprise—although she supposed it shouldn't surprise her—Alexis had a nice little collection of nail polish because Castle had bought her a little boxed set of nail polish in a variety of shades.

Alexis picked out a glittery lavender polish for herself while Kate chose a pale pink. (It should be subtle enough that she could still have it on for work the next day without causing too much attention, although past experience told her that in all likelihood, it would be little more than a day before the polish would be scuffed and scratched beyond repair.)

They returned downstairs to finish the movie and paint their nails, Kate painting Alexis's nails and then, she agreed to Alexis's offer and allowed Alexis to paint her nails, which Alexis proceeded to do, carefully, a little frown of concentration on her face.

Afterwards, Kate praised Alexis for the way her nails had turned out sincerely, making Alexis beam.

"Did I really do a good job?"

"You really did. You could work in a nail salon," Kate quipped.

Alexis giggled, flopping over to lean against Kate's side. "That's silly, Kate."

Kate put her arm around the girl, smiling down at her. "Maybe I've been spending too much time with your dad. I should spend more time with you instead."

"We can spend time with Daddy too. He's not always silly," Alexis conceded.

"No, not always," Kate agreed.

"Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you're Daddy's girlfriend because he really likes you and I love having you around."

Oh, this girl was going to be the death of her. Kate tightened her arm around Alexis's shoulders and bent to kiss the girl's hair. "I'm glad too because I love being here," she managed to say.

Fortunately (or something), the movie's climax of the Beast's fight with Gaston started playing, serving as a distraction so they didn't talk anymore but for the remainder of the movie, Alexis stayed tucked against Kate's side.

When the movie ended, it was Alexis's bedtime and since Castle still showed no signs of emerging, Kate was the one to tuck Alexis into bed and read aloud the next chapter in _The Fellowship of the Ring,_ although she was aware that she lacked Castle's skill as a storyteller. Alexis, of course, was too nice to even hint at such a thing and thanked Kate with her usual sweetness for reading to her before snuggling down into her bed.

Kate dropped a kiss on the girl's forehead. "Good night, Alexis."

Kate returned downstairs, glancing automatically towards Castle's office door to see that it was still mostly closed and, if she listened carefully, now that the TV was off, she could hear the sound of typing. And judging from the speed of the strokes, he was still in the throes of inspiration. She would have to get used to this too, wouldn't she, Castle disappearing for hours on end. She could do that. She resisted the urge to peek into his office and potentially distract him, instead settling on the couch with a book.

It was another hour before Castle appeared, his hair standing on end as if he'd run his fingers through it a few times and his expression a little dazed as if he were coming out of a trance of some sorts, which, she supposed, he sort of was since he'd been writing for more than three hours.

"And he emerges," she greeted him.

"Yeah, sorry about deserting you in the middle of dinner."

"You don't have to apologize. I get it."

He gave her a soft smile for that as he headed to the stairs to check on Alexis. "Alexis was no trouble, right?"

That made her laugh. "You're the troublemaker in the family, remember?"

He paused on the stairs, turning to make a face at her, before he disappeared upstairs.

While he was gone, she went to the kitchen to reheat the remains of his dinner and by the time he returned downstairs, his plate was sitting on the kitchen island.

"Beckett, were you the one who braided Alexis's hair?"

She bit back a laugh at the ridiculous question. Who else was there? "No, hair-braiding fairies must have appeared and braided her hair while she was sleeping," she deadpanned.

He had the grace to laugh. "Touché. Sorry, I just…" He apparently gave up on explaining and abruptly pulled her against him, his mouth swooping down on hers as he kissed her, hot and hard, until any thoughts in her head flew off into the atmosphere and she melted against him.

By the time he broke off the kiss, she was breathless and flushed and had to blink a few times before her head cleared. "Wow," she tried to joke, "I had no idea you liked braids that much."

"You got me, Beckett, a nice braid will get me every time," he quipped but his eyes were soft and serious, making it clear that what he meant was a thank you for doing for Alexis what he could not.

Her heart fluttered in her chest at the look in his eyes but all she said was "Eat your dinner before it gets cold again."

"Yes, dear," he responded teasingly before he began eating.

He'd finished eating before she asked idly, "So what's Derrick Storm up to now?" Not that she expected him to tell her anything specific, but she was still curious. He'd been writing a lot lately, from what she'd seen. She had even woken up one night to find him in his office, typing away in the dark relying only on the illumination of his laptop screen.

He stilled, wiping his mouth, before he turned to her, a strange expression she couldn't quite identify crossing his face. "Ah, yeah, about that, the thing is..."

He hesitated and a vague unease took root inside her. "What, Castle?"

"I'm not writing about Derrick Storm," he blurted out.

Was that all? Relief made her huff a laugh. "Okay. You're writing another stand-alone then?"

He winced a little. "Yes, well, no, I mean, I don't know."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You don't know?"

"It's just one book now but I think it could turn into more. It's not—I haven't talked to anyone about that yet," he said in a rush. "The thing is, I'm writing about you."

She froze, staring at him. He was what? "You're what?" she repeated dumbly through lips that felt oddly numb.

"I'm writing about you," he repeated, his eyes shifting, not meeting hers. "It's a new character based on you, inspired by you. She's a homicide detective, smart, savvy, haunting good looks. Really good at her job…"

She felt herself softening just a little. That was really how he saw her? "Okay. So you're… writing about a cop."

"Yeah," he began, sitting up, apparently encouraged by her reaction or lack of one. "She—this new character—is going to be great. I can feel it. I've been writing about her for a couple weeks now and I just… writing Derrick Storm had gotten to be such a chore. I've been getting tired of him, tired of having to force the words, just wanted to be done so I could send the draft to Gina. But then I started writing about this new character and these last couple weeks, I've barely been able to stop writing. I've already written almost 100 pages and yes, it's rough right now so a lot of it is probably going to turn out to be unusable but the words just keep coming. It's—writing is exciting again and I haven't felt like this in a long time."

He was cute when he got so excited and she couldn't help a faint smile. "That's nice but, um, go back to the part where you're writing about me. How—what does that mean?"

He sobered. "She's a cop, a homicide detective, like I said. The leader of her team."

"I'm not a team leader," she inserted.

He waved a hand, dismissing the correction. "You will be. I'm basing it on what you've told me about how you and Detective Hassan and other detectives interact to solve cases. It's you, your stories about your job, that inspired me and this character is like you. She's focused, driven, tries to get justice for victims even though she never got it for her mom—"

She went cold all over, abruptly pushing herself to her feet and taking a shaky step or two away from him. "Wait, you—you're writing about my mother?"

He froze again, his expression telling her all she really needed to know, before he was hurrying to answer, "No, not exactly. I—my character's mother was murdered when she was in college and it changed her path, made her become a detective, but it's not—"

She choked on air, his words seeming to strike her like blows. Mother murdered, made her become a detective… Oh god. She had trusted him… She felt a little dizzy from the sudden change in mood, the onslaught of emotion. It had been such a good evening until now, she'd been happy and now… This was why she should never get too used to being happy because the fall when the ground was cut out from under her was too much. He was writing about her mother, what her mother's death had done to her...

She was drowning in a tidal wave of emotion, hurt and betrayal and anger and she latched onto the anger because it was the only thing she could deal with right then, strengthened her even when she felt on the verge of collapse. "I've told you things I've never told anyone," she managed to choke because god, it was true. All that she'd told him about starting to read his books after her mom died, about her dad and his struggles… Would this character of his wear a ring that had belonged to her mother on a chain around her neck too?

Even her reasons for becoming a cop—she could count on one hand the number of her co-workers whom she'd told about her mom—Montgomery, Royce, Detectives Hassan and Scanlon, and just one other, Repczynski, who had been in the Academy with her and she had only told him briefly about her mom because he had admitted to her one night when they'd gone out for drinks with a group of other uniforms that he'd become a cop because his dad had been killed in a mugging. That was it. She might suspect that some other cops might know, given the way cops gossiped (and she knew her gender, her looks, and her rapid rise had made her the subject of more than the usual amount of gossip), but she had a general policy of ignoring gossip, especially about her. So the number of people she'd actually told about her mom was small. She'd been so focused on proving herself and working her way up that she hadn't been trying to foster friendships with her coworkers and it wasn't as if she spoke about her mom easily at any time.

But with Castle… She'd trusted him, thought he understood, and all this time, he'd been—what, filing her stories away in his mind to use as fodder for his books? Was that all this was to him, that he had been trying to gain her trust, using her stories, in order to write a book?

"Kate, no, I wouldn't—that's not—I can explain…" He leaped up out of his chair and approached her but she stepped back, avoiding him.

She couldn't. She just couldn't… Her mom's death was the most painful, private part of her past and he was using it for a book. She would rather naked pictures of her be posted on the billboards in Times Square. That would just be her body but to have her mom's death, what it had done to her, meant to her, in one of his books—this was more like having her soul exposed to the entire world. Her stomach rolled at the thought. Oh god, she might be sick.

He stopped a few feet away from her, holding out his hands, palms up as if in surrender or to demonstrate that he was unarmed. It didn't matter; he'd still wounded her more deeply than anyone had in years. "Kate, please, let me explain…"

What was there to explain? She shook her head almost violently. "No, no, you're talking about my life, my _mother_ —" she almost choked on the word, "and you want to use it in a book, just a plot point to—"

The sound of her phone ringing made her jump and break off, possibly luckily since she wasn't sure if she could have gone on without breaking down. She had to take a few deep breaths before she was able to answer her phone in something approaching a normal voice. "Beckett."

It was Dispatch, as she'd known it would be once she'd seen that the call was from the precinct. She had a case.

She couldn't do this right now, had to shove all her emotions down, lock them up so she could focus.

She ignored his eyes and the ache in her chest as she quickly gathered up her things.

"Kate…"

"I have a case," she clipped out. "I need to go."

"Can we… talk later?" he asked, almost pleading.

"I have work to do," she deflected because she honestly wasn't sure what she could say. They needed to talk but at the moment, she felt too out of control, too hurt, to talk to him about this and with a new case, it wasn't as if she knew what her schedule was going to be like anyway.

She risked one quick glance at him and almost flinched at the stark pain and guilt and regret and worry in his expression.

But then she turned away and fled, knowing even as she did so that Castle's expression was going to linger in her mind and unhappily aware that it was the first time she was relieved to be leaving.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: *hides*


	46. Chapter 46

Author's Note: And now the aftermath…. Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 46_

Shit.

Castle flinched as the door closed behind Kate with a force that was just short of a slam and his writer's brain couldn't help but think that it sounded like a death knell to their relationship. God, was he about to lose the love of his life because of his writing? No! His train of thought slammed to a stop so fast it should have left skid marks on his brain and then retreated just as fast. No, no, no, it couldn't be. His mind refused to face even the possibility of it. It could not happen.

This wasn't the end of anything. It couldn't be. He loved Kate too much to let her go over this. He would give her some space, a little time, for her to calm down and think and then he would explain, apologize, and make things right. Somehow. Whatever he had to do to make this right, he would do it.

He winced. Why oh why hadn't he told Kate about Nikki Heat earlier? He should have, he knew he should have.

Okay so he'd had a valid reason for not telling her about it at first because he hadn't really known then whether the idea would go anywhere. He'd had lots of ideas that had petered out into nothing after a while, character sketches for characters that never made it into any book. There were whole scenes that had leaped into his head and been written out only for him to realize that the scene was just an isolated entity that had no connection to any greater story. He had an entire folder on his computer, which he mentally called the graveyard, reserved for these sporadic bursts of inspiration that ended with nothing usable.

So no, he hadn't known at first that the initial scene of a female cop (Kate, in his mind) pausing to take a moment before flashing her badge at a uniform before stepping past the police tape and going to look at a body, would really turn into a full-fledged novel.

But afterwards, when it became clear that this inspiration wasn't going away, when everything Kate had told him about her work, what he'd seen when he visited her in the precinct, had returned to his mind and ideas and words had started churning out—he should have told her.

Yes, it had been something of an awkward time, with Kate's troubles with her dad and of course, with Alexis around, it did rather limit the time when he and Kate could talk privately but still, there had been earlier opportunities. He just hadn't taken them. He'd been too caught up in the story he was telling, the world he was building, too excited by the fact that writing felt fun again.

He'd told himself—tried to believe—that she would be flattered to know she had inspired him the way she had. After all, he got requests on a regular basis from fans asking to be put into one of his books.

Fine, he'd been procrastinating, avoiding what he'd known, deep down, wasn't going to be the easiest, most comfortable conversation. Because he knew that Kate was a private person, wouldn't be thrilled to have any aspect of her life on display. But he still should have told her.

And he definitely should have told her when he'd realized that Nikki Heat needed a backstory—or not just any backstory but Kate's, well, mostly Kate's. Characters needed plausible motivations to make them believable and, well, it didn't sound good but Kate's story was one that resonated, not only for him, but would resonate with readers too. It wouldn't be enough to just write about a badass female detective. A good character needed more than just the ability to kick ass; they needed a purpose, a _raison d'être_. Even good villains had to have some reason for their madness and it was even more true for protagonists. After all, wasn't that what had made Derrick Storm seem stale to him after so many books, because Storm, as cool as he was, didn't really have much of a driving force? Storm just was, he fought bad guys, flirted with hot women, but he wasn't any kind of idealist, didn't have many bedrock principles. Nikki Heat was going to be different, needed to be more complex.

It was what had drawn him in about Kate too, after all, what still fascinated him and amazed him. Her compassion and her empathy, her fierce determination, her combination of vulnerability and steely strength.

He flinched again as he remembered the look on her face, the way the color had left her skin, the stark pain in her eyes. Worse, the hurt in her voice when she'd said that she'd told him things she hadn't told anyone. God. He shut his eyes, as if that would make the image of her expression go away. He hadn't quite thought, realized, that a lot of what Kate had confided in him were things she hadn't told _anyone_. He would have guessed that she hadn't talked to many people, maybe just Lanie as her best friend, but to realize she'd trusted him that much… And now he'd betrayed that trust, or so Kate thought. The thought lashed at him, excoriated his heart.

He'd never thought, never meant to hurt her. He would never want to hurt Kate. All he wanted, what he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing, was to make her happy, try to bring that smile he loved so much to her face, that brightness to her eyes.

Instead, he'd hurt her.

But he could fix this, right? He _had_ to fix this. Because the alternative—losing Kate—was unthinkable.

She would let him apologize, let him explain. She would listen. She had so much compassion, so much empathy. And she loved him—he believed that, he _did_. He might not deserve it—at this moment, he definitely felt like he didn't deserve it—but he really did think she loved him. Just as he loved her.

He could make this right. He _had to_ make this right.

By Friday afternoon, Castle felt as if his heart had dropped down into his feet, his usual optimism a lot harder to sustain.

Because Kate wasn't talking to him. He had sent her a text message later on Wednesday night after she'd left saying simply, _I'm sorry_ , as an initial, tentative reaching out but she hadn't responded. And then on Thursday evening, he had tried calling her but she hadn't picked up and he'd been too dispirited to leave a message and the real apology and explanation he wanted to give her should be delivered in person. He'd tried to tell himself that her failure to pick up might not mean much because he knew she often didn't answer her phone for personal calls when she was working on an active case but always before, when she'd missed a call from him, she'd either called him back later or sent him a text message to say she was too busy to talk. This time, she hadn't responded in any way.

Normally, going just over 36 hours without hearing from Kate wouldn't be that concerning, even if they had talked in some way, sometimes just a text to say hi, every day since they'd started dating. But after the way she'd left, after the way he'd hurt her, it felt longer, as if every minute had become an hour. He'd been checking his phone obsessively in all the hours since she'd left but she hadn't contacted him.

"Daddy!"

He blinked, pulling himself out of his distraction to paste a smile on for his daughter. "Yes, pumpkin?"

She scowled at him. "You're not listening to me."

"No, I'm listening, I'm listening," he denied automatically. Technically, he had only zoned out for a couple minutes in her story about something that had happened at the zoo. She was enjoying this day camp so much that he was starting to wonder if she would become a zoo keeper when she grew up. In adding to becoming president and curing cancer and possibly taking over the world, of course.

She gave him a look that announced plainly that she didn't believe him. He had a momentary flash of impending terror over her teenage years that would probably be the death of him. (He really needed to invent a time machine to ensure that Alexis would stay a kid forever. And why hadn't some helpful super-genius invented one already?)

"I'm sorry, pumpkin, I just got a little distracted," he tried again. "But I'm interested. What else did you get to do?"

Instead of answering him, Alexis asked, "Is Kate coming over tonight?"

He tried not to wince. Crap, of course Alexis had to ask. He should have even been expecting her to ask; Alexis asked about Kate often. "I think she has to work," he finally hedged.

"Oh." Alexis's expression dimmed before she pinned him with one of her eerily grown-up looks. "Daddy, did you and Kate have a fight?"

He had to clamp his mouth shut before his jaw could drop or he could blurt out the all-too-revealing, _how did you know_ , that was on the tip of his tongue. His daughter might be telepathic. Which was awesome but also seriously terrifying. He was tempted to deny it because he absolutely didn't want Alexis worrying but he had a policy never to lie to Alexis if he could help it so after a moment, he answered, "It's nothing for you to worry about, baby bird."

Alexis didn't look at all placated by that answer, giving him a look. "That's not a no, Daddy. What did you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" This time, the words fell out of his mouth before he could catch them.

"Because you've been moping all day yesterday and today and you keep checking your phone and sighing. And you have a guilty look on your face, the same way you looked when you forgot Grams's birthday a couple years ago."

He couldn't help but make a small face at that reminder (which his mother was never going to let him forget anyway). As for his daughter, she could be a detective. She was also starting to scare him with her insight. "You're too smart for me," he tried to smile.

Of course, as a distraction, his ploy failed miserably. As he well knew, his daughter had her own single-minded focus and determination. "What did you do?"

He sighed a little. Sometimes, his policy of honesty with Alexis really sucked. He tried to think of what he could tell her that wasn't a lie but wouldn't worry her too much. "I hurt Kate's feelings," he finally opted to answer but even that simple statement made his whole chest ache at the reminder that Kate had been hurt. He had hurt her. When he sometimes thought that he would happily walk over broken glass with bare feet if it would bring a smile to her face.

"Tell her you're sorry. You always say that we should say we're sorry when we hurt someone's feelings."

He reached out and tugged Alexis into his side, wrapping his arm around her. "I know, sweetie. I will but sometimes, it's not that simple."

"But she'll be back, right?"

There was a flicker of fear mingled in with worry, and so much vulnerability, in her eyes and he tried not to flinch. Oh god. Not for the first time, he worried over how his relationships affected Alexis. He didn't—he really didn't—think that Kate wouldn't allow him to explain but he was less sure now of what this would do to their relationship. He'd just forgotten—or tried not to think about—what it would do to Alexis if this lack of communication between him and Kate continued for long. He didn't have time to wait for Kate to contact him again; he had Alexis to worry about too.

He tightened his arm around her, pressing his lips against her hair. "I'll fix this, baby bird, I promise." He had to fix this.

Alexis nestled her head against his shoulder. "Okay, Daddy." His heart clenched and as always, he was beyond humbled—and terrified—at the depths of his daughter's trust in him. He didn't know how he deserved it (easy answer: he didn't) but Alexis trusted him, believed in him, and no matter what, he could not fail her or let her down. "You'll apologize and fix it soon, right?"

"As soon as I can, pumpkin."

He wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved or not that Alexis's trust in him apparently allowed her to start reading her latest book soon after—well, he was partially relieved because it took him off the hot seat as it were but it also brought home to him, yet again, just how much Alexis was depending on him to fix things with Kate. His wasn't the only heart that was at stake in this.

With Alexis, at least, engrossed in her book, he retreated into his office and started planning because as much as he loved his daughter, the conversation he needed to have with Kate—groveling on his knees, if necessary—required that they be alone.

So, first things first, he called up his mother and then, inwardly steeling himself a little, tried a number he didn't often call.

"Roy, it's Rick Castle," he began with forced normalcy when the man answered.

"Hi, Rick," Roy's voice relaxed from the crisp Captain voice with which he'd answered his phone. "It's a little early to be calling to schedule our next poker night, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's not about that. It's—uh—I was just wondering if Kate—I mean, Beckett—is there at the precinct."

He could imagine Roy straightening in his chair and his voice certainly changed. "And why exactly should I tell you the whereabouts of one of my detectives?"

He suppressed a sigh. He knew the Captain was only looking out for Beckett and he even appreciated it but on another level, he really didn't need this right now. "Come on, Roy, you know me, I'm not some creepy stalker. Beckett and I are—friends."

"Friends, right," Roy returned with just a hint of dryness in his tone. "And would you be the reason my most promising detective has been walking around the last couple days looking like someone just ran over her dog?"

Castle felt a completely absurd stab of pride at hearing Kate referred to as Montgomery's most promising detective, even as he winced at the description of her appearance, the vivid imagery hardly necessary since the memory of Kate's expression had been haunting him constantly since she'd left. "Ah, yeah, I… did something stupid."

"Hmm, must have been a day ending in 'y,'" Roy jibed although his tone was mild.

Castle forced a small laugh at this. "Yeah. Anyway, I want to apologize but Kate's not answering when I call so I thought I'd try in person. I don't want to bother her if she's busy with a case but if she could spare a minute, I'd appreciate it."

He waited, almost holding his breath, and then released it in a rush when Roy answered, "She's finishing up the paperwork for her latest case so she'll be here until the end of her shift in a few hours."

"Thank you, Roy," he said sincerely. "I won't hurt her again."

"You don't need to tell me that." Castle had just started to feel good about Roy's apparent trust in him when Roy went on, "Beckett's more than capable of shooting anyone who hurts her." Roy's voice was dry but still, not exactly the declaration of faith Castle had been expecting.

"Right, I know that," Castle hastily assured Roy.

"I'll tell the desk sergeant downstairs to expect you. But if Beckett blames me for letting you in, I'm telling her you just barged in without my knowledge."

By which Roy meant and Castle understood he meant that if it came to a choice of sides between Castle and Beckett, Roy was on Beckett's side.

"Understood. Thanks."

"Try losing at our next poker night and we'll be even," Roy quipped.

Castle's chuckle at that was real and he ended the call with a return of some of his usual optimism. At least he knew he would be seeing Kate and he didn't think she'd refuse to hear him out.

Of course, for all his optimism, he still felt distinctly nervous as he entered the 12th precinct a little while later, after his mother had come over to take Alexis out for the evening.

The desk sergeant in the lobby recognized him from his last visit, the day he and Kate had been supposed to go out on their date, he remembered with a small pang, and waved him in.

He stepped out of the elevator onto the homicide floor and for once, was entirely indifferent to his surroundings and their potential for inspiration, preoccupied as he was with Kate. He forced himself to look to Montgomery's office first but saw with some relief that Roy was on the phone and he only raised a hand in greeting, which Roy returned with a nod. And then, his eyes were free to find Kate, which they immediately did, sitting at her desk with her head bent over some papers.

But at that moment, as if she sensed his presence, or more prosaically, sensed someone looking at her, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. Expressions he couldn't quite read flickered across her face in the second before she controlled her expression and smoothed it into blankness. She really must be formidable at poker. He was, strangely, reminded of an eggshell, her expression smooth and blank but he had a sense of fragility too, that it would crack with a single blow.

She pushed herself to her feet and strode toward him. He should have expected that Kate Beckett wasn't the type to passively wait for him to approach her.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" she demanded quietly.

He tried not to flinch. That wasn't the warmest welcome. "I brought you coffee," he offered her the to-go cup of coffee he had stopped off to get on the way. Call it a peace offering.

"Oh. Thanks," she sounded a little nonplussed but she accepted the cup and took a quick sip, which he took as a small victory.

"And I wanted to apologize in person since you aren't answering my calls." He stopped. That sounded off, as if he was blaming her. He hurried on to add, "And Alexis was asking about you." Was that manipulative, to mention Alexis? But it was true.

Her expression softened slightly at the mention of Alexis. "Tell her I say hi. I—"

But whatever she might have been about to say was lost as they were interrupted by Montgomery, who emerged from his office. "Castle, what are you doing here, aside from distracting my people?"

Castle shook Montgomery's hand. Well, if that was how Roy wanted to play it, he wasn't exactly in a position not to go along. "I won't stay long. I just stopped by to talk to Detective Beckett for a couple minutes, if that's okay with you."

Montgomery turned to Beckett. "Take ten minutes, Beckett. I'm sure you'll still be able to finish up your paperwork by the end of your shift."

This, Castle decided, was why he was glad to be friends with Roy Montgomery, because put like that, Beckett had little choice but to agree. Although he also knew that if she really were going to refuse to talk to him, she could and Montgomery would have no way to make her.

"Yes, sir, thank you." Kate turned back to Castle. "Come on, Castle."

Castle mouthed a quick "thanks," to Roy before he followed Kate past the bullpen where there were a couple chairs in the hall. It wasn't very private but it was out of the way enough to provide at least a modicum of privacy, as long as they kept their voices down.

They both sat down but before he could formulate words (laughable, considering who he was, but Kate had that effect on him and this conversation felt too important, as if the fate of his life hung on it. _No pressure there, Rick._ )

After a moment, she spoke but what she said wasn't anything close to what he'd been expecting, asking for an apology or reproaching him or something like that. No, what she said was, "Where's Alexis right now?"

This was why he trusted Kate with Alexis. Because even before hearing his apology and explanation, before she could really have forgiven him, she asked about Alexis first. And he loved her even more for it. "Oh, I prevailed upon my mother to take her out for the evening."

She nodded and then, after a moment, prompted, "Well, say what you came here to say, Castle."

He took some encouragement from the fact that her tone and her expression was mild, not, at least, openly angry or worse, hurt. "I came to say I'm sorry. I… didn't mean to hurt you or… violate your trust and I'm not using any of the details of what you've told me about your mom or writing about your dad. I wouldn't do that." He broke off, realizing belatedly that he was, still, making excuses, trying to justify himself instead of actually expressing contrition. Talking about his own mistakes was far from his favorite thing to do but he owed it to Kate.

He winced a little. "Sorry, let me start over." He met her eyes directly. "I hate that I hurt you and I'm sorry. Your trust means more to me than anything else, aside from Alexis, and I know how much your mom's death means to you and I should never have thought to use anything that was so personal without talking to you first. I overstepped and that was wrong of me and I'm sorry."

He stopped, running out of words, and waited somewhat tensely for her response.

She looked down at her lap, her fingers idly folding a crease in her slacks and then smoothing it out, and then after a moment, she nodded, glancing at him from under her lashes in a way that in anyone else, he would have termed shy but in Kate, indicated uncertainty and, yes, vulnerability.

He felt some of his tension ease.

"I'm at work so this isn't a great time. If I come over after my shift is done, can we talk then?"

"Yes," he blurted out, a little too fast and a little too eagerly. He tempered his voice as he added, "You know you're always welcome."

She lifted her head and the ghost of a smile just touched the corners of her lips but what she said was, "Sorry I didn't return your call."

And he knew he was forgiven. Thank god. "You were in the middle of a case." By which he meant and knew she knew he meant that he had nothing to forgive.

"I have paperwork to get back to."

He nodded. "I know. I won't keep you. Don't want Montgomery to kick me out after all," he ventured for a weak joke.

This time, he was rewarded with a real smile, albeit a small one. And then as he was about to stand, she reached out, her fingers curling around his for just a moment, the briefest touch, before her hand retreated. But it was enough. They were in the precinct, still in full view of the entire bullpen, after all, and Kate was hardly the sort for public displays of affection.

She accompanied him to the elevator, not touching, but then he didn't expect it, didn't need it. The one, fleeting caress had been enough, for now at least.

"I'll see you later?"

She nodded and offered him another small but real smile. "Yeah, once my shift is over. We can talk more."

"I'll have dinner ready."

Her smile widened, for the first time a faintly teasing glint entering her eyes. "I'm counting on it, Castle."

Yes, he was definitely forgiven. They were going to be okay. "See you later, Beckett."

"See you later, Castle," she echoed, giving him another glimmer of a smile, that spark of green in her eyes, which was quite enough to send him home on a little cloud of happiness and relief and love.

* * *

Kate returned to her desk feeling distinctly happier.

She wasn't sure if she would admit it to Castle but she had already mostly gotten over her anger and her hurt by the time he showed up, her traitorous heart giving an entirely unbidden leap in her chest when she'd seen him.

The case she'd gotten called out to on Wednesday evening had turned out to be a relatively straightforward one. But even so, she'd found that working was rather calming, or at least the initial work of gathering the facts about the victim had allowed her rational brain to kick back into gear, her head clearing, not just about work but about other things.

Once her initial flare of emotion had faded, she had realized that her immediate stab of hurt and betrayal that Castle might have only been trying to gain her trust in order to write a book had been wrong and unjust to Castle. She knew him—she couldn't believe she'd been that wrong about him—but leaving aside her own belief, she knew that if writing a book had been Castle's primary intent, he would never in a million years have allowed her to become so close to Alexis. That much, she knew for certain. No one with eyes could doubt that Castle adored Alexis and no matter how much he might care about his writing, he would never let Alexis get so close to someone he didn't honestly trust.

And then, he'd said that he'd only been writing about her for a couple weeks. She knew that at least up until Memorial Day, he'd still been working on his latest Derrick Storm novel. And they'd been together for a lot longer than that. No, their relationship was real and Castle's feelings for her were sincere. Now that she was thinking more clearly, she was sure of it. There was too much evidence for it to be otherwise. It was in the way he curled around her when they were sleeping, in his sleepy kisses and caresses when he was at least half-asleep, in the way he sometimes mumbled her name in his sleep as if even in his dreams, they were always together. It was in the way he remembered how she took her coffee. He had given her the key to his _home_. All of that meant that their relationship was real and deep and everything she had believed it was.

And then she'd been cornered by Lanie yesterday when she'd gone to get an update on the case. She hadn't intended to tell Lanie anything but since she knew that arguing with Lanie when she was in interrogation mode was only marginally easier than arguing with a brick wall, she'd caved and told Lanie a very concise summary, that Castle was writing a book about her life, about her mom's death, without so much as asking.

Somewhat to Kate's surprise, Lanie had not immediately arrayed herself on Kate's side, guns blazing—or more accurately, scalpels at the ready—but had been decidedly underwhelmed by Kate's (brief) tale of betrayal. "So your favorite living author has been inspired to write an entire book about a character based on you and you're not the tiniest bit flattered?"

Kate had opened her mouth on an automatic denial but then shut it because, well, she had been a little flattered at first. "That's not the point," she finally retorted.

"What is the point?"

"The point is that he's writing about my life, my mother, and he didn't tell me about it!"

"He's told you now," had been Lanie's unhelpful response.

Kate had glowered. "What if I don't want to have my entire private life, my feelings about my mom, exposed for the entire world to see?"

That, at least, had made Lanie's expression soften. "I get that, Kate. Getting you to talk about your feelings is only slightly easier than squeezing water out of a rock."

"Gee, thanks," Kate bit off sarcastically. So much for Lanie being her best friend. A treacherous little voice inside her mind inserted that Castle had become her best friend, but she squelched the thought, although she felt a quick pang.

Lanie ignored her and only went on, "I don't know your Castle well but I can't imagine from what you've told me about him that he would have let you get so close to his daughter if he wasn't serious about you for more than just a book."

"I know that," she'd admitted, somewhat grudgingly.

"And he knows you and cares about you so do you really think he would put that much about your private life, your feelings about your mom, into one of his books for everyone to read?"

She cringed a little at the thought. "I don't know but he could and that's the point." She didn't know exactly what Castle was including in his book but what kept returning to her mind was all that he knew about her and _could_ write about, if he chose. She was just so… vulnerable to him and she didn't like the feeling.

"What then? Are you breaking up with him over this, because he wants to write about you?" Lanie challenged.

Break up. Her heart twisted in her chest, hard and painfully, just at the words. "What? _No_ ," she blurted out forcefully. She hadn't even thought the words, let alone considered it a possibility. "No, I'm not—we're not—I don't want to break up with him." Not ever. She _loved_ him but she left that unsaid.

Lanie sat back, looking rather smug, and Kate realized that her friend had been deliberately pushing, goading her.

Kate threw Lanie a scowl that Lanie ignored with her trademark insouciance, as she continued more soberly, "Look, all I'm really saying is that he cares about you so I don't think he would do anything that would hurt you and he's not stupid enough not to realize that putting private stuff about you in his book would hurt you. And for what it's worth, I've read some of Castle's books, although not all of them—unlike you—and do you think Castle would write about your mom's death as if it were just some cheap plot point, a gimmick to get readers' attentions, because from what I've read of Castle's books, that doesn't seem like him."

That had given Kate pause, the truth of it hitting her. No, it wouldn't be like Castle as a writer to reduce her mom's death—his character's mom's death—to some cheap plot point. Castle wrote about death a lot, for obvious reasons, but never from what Kate remembered of his books, did he write about anyone's death as if it didn't matter except as a plot point. It was what she'd liked about his books, that the lives he wrote about might be fictional but he always treated them with respect, as if they mattered. "No, it wouldn't be like him," she admitted slowly.

It wouldn't be like him as a writer not to treat his character's mom's death with respect but also, she realized, it wouldn't be like him as a person to betray her so viscerally by putting details of her private life, her feelings, into his books. That sort of betrayal wouldn't be in keeping with the man she'd come to know and trust.

Because she did trust him, still. In the first heat of the moment, her—she inwardly winced—rush to judgment, her trust might have felt a little shaky but it was more firmly rooted in her than that.

"Talk to Castle and listen to what he has to say," had been Lanie's final piece of advice. "And that reminds me, you and I are due for another night out and I think you should ask Castle to join us. I need to make sure he's treating you right." A waggle of Lanie's brows made it clear that Lanie was referring to Castle's "treatment" in bed and Kate felt herself flush.

"Fine, I'll talk to him."

"Actually, you should have him bring Alexis too," Lanie suggested. "I want to meet your future stepdaughter."

Kate choked on air. "That's—she's—we're not—" she spluttered before she gave up on coherence and only protested, "Lanie!"

Lanie only snickered at Kate's sputtering.

Kate glared ineffectually at her best friend—rapidly becoming her former best friend at this rate—but then decided that discretion was the better part of valor and made a rapid retreat. There was no point in arguing with Lanie and Lanie was immune to her glares anyway. "I have to go back to work," she'd quickly said with unnecessary emphasis and fled.

And now Castle had apologized with so much sincerity that her trust in him was vindicated and any lingering vestiges of anger had completely dissolved.

They still needed to talk more. She wasn't thrilled at the idea of him basing a character on her. She needed to find out more about this character she had apparently inspired—just how was that going to work? How similar was this character going to be to her? And she definitely wanted to find out just how much of her mom's story he was using for his book.

But they had made up, were okay again. And for now, that was enough, had relief and happiness taking cautious root in her chest.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I know, this is probably not all that you were hoping/expecting to see but a real conversation is coming, I promise. Thank you all for reading.


	47. Chapter 47

Author's Note: This is a chapter you've all been waiting for and I only hope it lives up to expectations!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 47_

Kate finished up her paperwork by the end of her shift and turned it in. And if Captain Montgomery gave her a somewhat knowing look when she left just at the end of her shift rather than staying overtime, she ignored it.

Even after her rapprochement with Castle, she couldn't help a little flutter of nerves as she approached the loft. It was irrational, she knew, but she didn't feel quite comfortable letting herself in with her key after the way she had practically stormed out two days ago so she knocked instead.

Castle blinked when he opened the door for her. "Beckett. Did you lose your key?"

She fought back a flush. Put like that, she felt decidedly silly. "No, I just felt like knocking," she said lamely, giving a little shrug.

His expression softened a little with a flicker of something like understanding as he stepped back to let her in. "Come in."

For the first time in a long time, possibly since the first morning after when she'd returned to the loft, he hesitated about how to greet her, looking a little uncertain. His arms lifted a little as he stepped toward her as if to embrace her but then he stopped, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her.

Her heart twisted a little. Was this what she had done, made him so tentative around her, so uncertain of their relationship?

So she stepped into him, brushing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he responded, his arms immediately wrapping around her. She rested her head against his shoulder, her own arms going around him, a little tremor of relief and happiness and love going through her that was reflected by his sigh as she felt him relax into the hug, his body softening, curving around her. Which was something she entirely understood, felt her own tension loosening. It really was absurd, to have missed being in his arms when it had barely been two days, but somehow she had. Missed the strength of him against her, missed his scent and his broad solid warmth.

She felt him press his lips against her hair. "I really am sorry," he murmured.

She lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes. "It's okay. You already apologized." She hesitated and then added, "I'm sorry too. I… overreacted. I shouldn't have assumed the worst."

"No, no," he denied quickly, if gently. "I should have told you earlier and I could have done better about explaining, telling you what I would and wouldn't be writing about."

"I didn't exactly give you a chance."

"Still, I could have been more sensitive about it," he insisted.

She couldn't help but quirk a small smile. "Are we arguing over which of us is more to blame now?"

"No, we're not arguing. It was my fault and that's final," he countered, although with the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Oh this man. She felt a rush of emotion. He was so good to her. How could she ever have thought he would betray her so personally? Castle was different; he had never let her down. She trusted him. She had to do better about believing in him, believing in them, she promised herself.

She rose up to press her lips to his and he wasn't shy about kissing her back, kissing her with enough passion that by the time the kiss ended, she was flushed and a little breathless and more importantly, felt reassured that their relationship was healed, as strong as it had ever been.

He gave her a faint smile and kissed her forehead as he drew back, his arms loosening their hold on her. "Now that that's out of the way, dinner will be ready in a minute."

She smiled and squeezed his waist briefly. "Oh good. I knew I came here for a reason," she joked, even as she leaned into him to make sure he knew she was kidding.

"After that, I hope the simple stir-fry I made lives up to your hopes."

"Anything is fine, Castle," she assured him as she quickly retreated into his office to deposit her gun in the safe and then returned to join him in the kitchen. "I take it Alexis is still out with Martha?"

"Yes, I imagine they're going to do some shopping and then grab dinner before they come home. If you want wine, pick a bottle. The food's just about ready."

True to his word, by the time she had opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, he was bringing their plates to the table.

By some unspoken agreement, they did not bring up the subject of his writing again while they ate. Instead, he regaled her with some of Alexis's stories from her time at the zoo the past couple days.

It was later, after she had finished laughing over his rendition of Alexis's tale of some of the trials and tribulations of one of Alexis's fellow campers while helping to feed the penguins, that he broke the brief silence by mentioning, his expression sobering, "Alexis knows about our disagreement so don't be surprised if she's more excited than usual to see you."

Oh. She felt a quick pang of concern and something like guilt. In all this, she hadn't even thought to wonder about Alexis or how the little girl might react. In fairness, she also hadn't really thought Castle would tell Alexis but even so, she hadn't considered Alexis's reaction. It was, she realized, another aspect to dating a man with a kid that she would need to remember, that their relationship, any ups and downs in the relationship, would inevitably affect Alexis too. All the more so because of how much Alexis had come to care about her. "Oh. Was she upset?" she ventured carefully.

"She was okay once I promised I would make up with you. I didn't mean to tell her," he added, "but she guessed because I was 'moping,' as she put it."

She gave him a small smile at that. "Moping, huh?"

He rearranged his expression into one of affronted dignity. (He was adorable.) "She exaggerates."

She reached over to place her hand on top of his. "I was moping too."

She was rewarded for her candor by the flash of his smile, the gleam of his eyes, before he leaned in to kiss her. "I don't like fighting with you either."

She sobered as he drew back, her mind returning to the thought of Alexis. "I'm sorry if Alexis was worried."

He sobered at that too, sighing. "No, it's okay. It's not your fault that Alexis worries; it's Meredith's, really. I've tried so hard to protect Alexis from everything, make sure she knows that what Meredith does has nothing to do with her but it's hard." He paused, hesitating, and then went on, his expression clouding over, "After Meredith brought Alexis back from Paris and she and I had that big fight about it and basically didn't talk for about six months, in that time, Meredith didn't really talk to Alexis either. She talked to Alexis twice, in six months, and both those times were because Alexis asked to call her."

Kate winced, deciding not for the first time that she really hated Meredith. It was her turn to hesitate as she tried to put her thoughts into words and then she met his eyes. "Castle. Rick." The use of his first name got his attention and he straightened. "No matter what happens between us, I won't bring Alexis into it. I won't take it out on her when you and I fight."

"When, not if?" he murmured irrepressibly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked suitably abashed, sobering and pressing his lips shut. "I won't involve Alexis or ignore her or try to make her take sides when you and I fight," she repeated. "And no matter what, I'll always try to be there for her."

His eyes were impossibly soft and tender as he looked at her. "I knew that already."

"Still. I know it's important." The words, the promise, needed to be said. And after hearing about what Meredith had done, she doubly wanted to assure him that she understood how much trust he was reposing in her when it came to Alexis.

"Thank you, Kate," he breathed softly before he kissed her.

When the kiss ended, they exchanged small, soft smiles before finishing dinner.

It was later, after they had put their plates away and settled on the couch with their glasses of wine that Kate finally returned to the subject they had been tacitly dancing around. "Tell me more about what you've been writing, this new character."

He let out his breath but met her eyes directly. "She's a cop, a homicide detective, as I told you. She's smart, good at her job, dedicated." He paused, his expression sobering. "Her mother was murdered, stabbed in a home invasion, when she was out buying groceries and the killer was never caught. This changed her path, from a drama major to criminal justice, made her become a cop. And it's what drives her, getting justice for others even though she wasn't able to get it for herself or her mother."

She swallowed a lump of emotion, let out a shaky breath, something inside her still cringing at the parts of this story that were too familiar, even as she filed away the differences in the details of the story. Justice for others even though she hadn't been able to get it for her mother—hearing the words still stung a little, even though she lived with the reality of it. She nodded slowly and he took that as a sign to go on.

"That's the backstory and that's the closest to your story. But it's her character, your character, your personality, that I'm inspired by. It's your drive and your compassion, your strength, your cleverness. I—I want to do you justice, Kate, put into words how I see you, the person I've come to know."

She wasn't sure she recognized this person, this heroine, he was describing, the one who was so strong and compassionate. She wasn't that strong; she of all people knew how damaged she was because of her past, how hard she had to try to patch herself together. How much it helped her to have him in her life, lending her his strength and his joy. "What if… I told you that I still don't want you to write about me?" she asked slowly.

He winced, his expression falling, but his answer was sure, even as he squared his shoulders as if he was expecting a blow. "Then I wouldn't."

Her breath stuttered in her lungs as she stared at him, surprised. "You would do that, just stop writing about this character if I asked you to? But… you're so excited about this character, this new book." He was. She could see that in his eyes, hear it in his voice, every time he talked about this character.

He thought about it seriously and she loved him for that too, that he wasn't making some glib promise in order to placate her. After a moment, he made a small face. "I am excited about this character and I don't know if I could just stop writing this story completely; not to be able to write out the words in my head might drive me crazy. But I could write it just for me, I mean, I don't have to publish it. I haven't talked to anyone else about this, not Gina, not Black Pawn, so no one has to know. It would be like all those stories about Princess Strawberry Sparkle that I wrote for Alexis years ago, that have certainly never been published."

She stared at him, a little amazed and strangely humbled by what he was saying, that he could be so inspired to write an entire book and then deliberately keep it hidden, not even try to get it published after all the work he would put into it, simply because she asked him to. He was giving her so much… power, if that was the word, over his writing. "I can't ask you to do that." It wasn't fair to him. She thought about the few glimpses she'd had of him when he was writing, the intensity of his focus, the effort he clearly put into it. For him to do all that, pour so much of his energy into a whole book and then make him keep it a secret, essentially having worked for nothing? She might know that he didn't write for the money or even for the admiration of his fans but still, it wouldn't be fair to him.

"You wouldn't be asking; I'm offering."

She shook her head a little, not quite able to believe she was going to say this but her decision was made and it was surprisingly easy to make it. Maybe because he was so willing to stop, so willing to make this sacrifice for her, it made it easy to decide that she couldn't—wouldn't—ask such a thing of him. "No, Castle. You should publish this new book. If you write it and finish it, you should publish it. You believe in this new character so much so you should get to share your vision. I won't stop you."

"But will you be okay with that? Kate, you're a private person, I know that, and I don't want to do anything that will hurt you or make your life harder. I—I have to be honest and admit that even if I don't actually tell people, if this book is published, people are going to guess that it's inspired by you. When they find out we're together, that you're a homicide detective, they'll put two and two together. I know you already weren't thrilled at the idea of publicity over being my girlfriend but it'll be worse if the word gets out that you're my muse too."

His what? "I am not a muse."

"Yes, you are. You inspired me. You've made writing exciting again and that's because of you so you're my muse."

"Call me a muse again and I will break both your legs," she warned him rather tartly. It wasn't important, given everything, but still.

He had the nerve to smile, even though he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "It's what you are, though."

She narrowed her eyes at him and he sobered. "Never mind. I just want you to be sure, Kate. I don't have to publish or…" he paused and then started again. "Or how about this, you can read the first draft before I send it to Black Pawn and if anything hits too close to home, if you want me to change something, you can tell me. You'll get a right of first refusal, as it were."

Oh, Castle. She felt so much affection—no, love—burst in her chest like fireworks, sending a cascade of warmth through her veins. "You would do that?"

"Of course. I'm in love with you, not Nikki Heat, so whatever I need to do, I'll do it."

He—had he just—what? She stilled, her lungs, her heart, everything inside her momentarily forgetting how to function. Her mind went blank and all she could hear running through her mind was an echo of his voice saying, _I'm in love with you_ … He'd said it. He'd really said it.

He blinked, the belated awareness of what he'd said spreading over his face. Not as if he was surprised by the fact of it or even that he'd said it but rather as if it was only now occurring to him that he'd never said it before. "I'm in love with you," he repeated more quietly. "You did know that, right?"

Hoping—believing it was different than actually hearing the words. She couldn't find words and only surged forward to cover his lips with hers, her tongue seeking the seam of his lips. That immediately parted for her invasion, his mouth so warm and welcoming, as she kissed him, slow and deep, letting her kiss say the words that seemed to be caught in her throat. One of his hands came up to cradle her face, his thumb gently caressing her chin, and she sank further against him, a soft whimper getting caught in her throat. Oh god, his kiss, she could never get enough of his kiss.

When the kiss finally ended, she was breathless and sagging against him and needed to blink a few times to clear her foggy mind. But then so did he.

"Kate…" Her name came out as a sighing breath against her cheek as he ghosted his lips over her cheekbone, the little hollow before her ear.

She tilted her head to give him greater access, marveling, not for the first time, at how he could make her name sound like an endearment.

But with returning coherence, the rest of what he'd said returned to her mind, and she lifted her head to pin him with her gaze. _What_ had he called his character? "Wait. What's this character's name?"

Now, his eyes flickered a little. "Oh, right. It's Nikki Heat."

That's what she'd thought he'd said. "You have got to be kidding." This was a joke. He was pranking her. He had to be. Nikki Heat? That wasn't a name, that was an obvious pseudonym. A pseudonym for a call girl.

"What's wrong with it? Nikki is a great name. It's strong and has consonance and it was ranked among the top 300 names for girls when I was considering names for Alexis."

The man was ridiculous. "But Nikki Heat? What kind of a name is that?"

"It's a cop name."

"It's a stripper name," she shot back.

"Well, she is going to be kind of slutty."

She was going to kill him. She might love him but she was going to murder him. "And you say this character is based on me?"

He caught the danger in her tone and his eyes widened. "Inspired by you and that was a dumb joke! She's not—I didn't mean— _you're_ not… Nikki's not going to be like that, she's going to be so much more than that, I promise! It's just a name that will draw people in. Black Pawn, the public, they like names you can make a pun with for titles. _Summer Heat, Heat Wave, In Heat_ … It's like Derrick Storm."

Not that Derrick Storm was a normal person's name either. But she softened just a little since she could see his point on titles. Publishers did like plays on words for titles. They were memorable, caught people's attention.

"Would you change the name if I asked you to?"

"Yes, if you really wanted me to." He meant it but the slight downturn of the corners of his lips revealed that he wouldn't exactly be happy about it.

She abruptly felt a little prickle of something like shame. What was she doing, trying to test his sincerity, the depth of his feelings? He had already conceded so much, offering not to publish the book at all, letting her read the first draft to approve it. The character's name wasn't the important thing; she was concerned about her privacy, about not having too much of her personal life and feelings exposed. Having him change the name just because it was silly would be petty of her. "You can keep the name, if you're that attached to it. But I still think it's a ridiculous name," she added.

He ignored the aside, brightening up. "She's going to be a great character, I know it, so much better than Derrick Storm or Clara Strike."

He was so… cute when he got so excited, the way his whole posture changed, his eyes lighting up, and she felt herself softening in spite of herself. He was turning her into such a sap.

"I'm going to try to do justice to you, Kate, let everyone see the amazing woman I fell in love with."

Damn, how was she supposed to even pretend to be annoyed at him after that? She sternly controlled her expression as she warned—or tried to warn, "Don't think you can butter me up by throwing that word around."

He gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Uh huh, sure you wouldn't."

"You're a hard-nosed cop who's used to dealing with criminals. I have every faith in your ability to resist my blandishments—although come to think of it, I might have to consider it a character flaw to be impervious to my charms. But since I'm so generous, I'll overlook the flaw since you have so many other attributes."

His spurt of persiflage had her dissolving into laughter, as he undoubtedly intended, and she willingly curved into him as he drew her closer so he could swallow her laughter with his mouth.

She fell into his kiss as she always did, his tongue curling around hers, as she curved her arms around his neck. His hands were eager and searching, tugging her onto his lap and then finding the hem of her shirt and slipping under it, drawing an involuntary gasp from her at the first touch of his knowing hands on her skin. To her vague surprise, his hands stayed where they were, didn't wander to any more immodest places. His teeth caught at her lower lip and her little moan was swallowed by his mouth, his tongue soothing her lip as she arched into him.

She had no idea how long they engaged in this delicious, leisurely make-out session but it broke off abruptly at the sound of a perfunctory knock and then a key turning in the lock. Kate almost fell off Castle's lap in her hurried scramble off it as they both stood up.

There was no time for Kate to do more than make sure her shirt wasn't rucked up too much before the door was swinging open to reveal Martha and Alexis.

Alexis hurtled towards Kate immediately. "Kate! You're back!"

Kate caught the girl in her arms, feeling a twinge of guilt at Alexis's apparent worry if the enthusiasm of her greeting was any indication. She bent and dotted a quick kiss to Alexis's bright hair. "Hi, Alexis. I missed you too," she murmured for the girl's benefit before lifting her head to smile at Martha. "Hi, Martha."

"Katherine, what a lovely surprise," was Martha's greeting as she handed a couple shopping bags to Castle.

Alexis didn't release her grip on Kate, only lifted her face. "Did Daddy 'pologize for hurting your feelings?"

Kate shot Castle a glance before she looked back down at the girl. "Yes, he did."

"Okay, good. Daddy didn't mean to hurt your feelings, you know. He's not like that," Alexis explained solemnly, her eyes big and earnest and so very blue.

"Thank you, pumpkin," Castle joined them to rest a fond hand on top of Alexis's head. "My best character witness."

Kate kept her expression solemn to suit Alexis's, biting back the urge to smile at Alexis's defense of Castle. "I know that, Alexis."

"Daddy says dumb things a lot," Alexis went on.

"Hey!" Castle inserted in exaggerated protest. "I think I'm taking back my thanks."

Alexis ignored this interruption. "But he's never not nice on purpose."

Kate valiantly suppressed a laugh and tightened her arm around Alexis. "Your dad explained and I forgave him so everything's fine, I promise."

Alexis's expression eased into a smile. "I'm glad."

Kate smiled back at Alexis before transferring her smile to Martha. "How was your dinner?"

Martha returned her smile. "Dinner was wonderful, thank you. I'm glad my son appears to have apologized properly."

"Grams took me for ice cream too," Alexis piped up.

"Did she? Well, that sounds like fun."

Martha directed her smile at Alexis. "It was but then it's always fun to spend time with my favorite granddaughter."

Alexis giggled. "Thank you for dinner and ice cream, Grams."

"You're welcome, darling. Now, give me a kiss before I go."

Alexis willingly did so and then Martha accepted a kiss on the cheek from Castle before pulling Kate in for a quick embrace and then she left with a dramatic wave of her hand. "Ta ta, my dears, I'm off!"

Kate turned back to Alexis. "I want to hear all about what you did at the zoo the last couple days. Your dad told me a little but I know he exaggerates so I want to know what really happened." Kate threw Castle a smirk before returning her eyes to Alexis.

Alexis happily launched into a story while Kate and Castle listened attentively. And although Alexis was never anything other than warmly welcoming, Kate rather thought that the girl was more affectionate than usual, staying close to Kate's side for the rest of the evening until it was her bed-time.

By now, it had become the usual, expected thing that Kate would accompany Castle and Alexis upstairs for Alexis's bedtime (and Kate still wasn't sure exactly when that had happened but somehow, it had). Castle read aloud another chapter from _The Fellowship of the Ring_ and then kissed Alexis goodnight before giving way to Kate.

Alexis wrapped her skinny arms around Kate. "Good night, Kate. I'm really, really glad you're here."

Oh, this girl. Kate returned the girl's squeeze and then bent to meet her eyes. "Me too but no matter what happens with your dad, I'll still be here for you, you know that, right, Alexis?" She felt a little flutter of nerves because this felt frighteningly like a vow, a commitment for life—except it was one she'd already made, somehow, wasn't it?

"Really?"

Kate decided, yet again, that she hated Meredith for the flicker of doubt warring with hope in Alexis's eyes. "I promise."

Alexis dimpled a little. "Pinky promise?"

Kate smiled and hooked her pinky with Alexis's. "Pinky promise too."

Kate glanced up at Castle over Alexis's head to see him watching them with so much tenderness and love written all over his face it made her heart stutter a little. And she heard his voice in her mind saying, _I'm in love with you…_

She stood up after giving Alexis a last hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well, Alexis."

Castle slipped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side to kiss her hair. "Sweet dreams, baby bird."

"Night, Daddy, Kate." Alexis snuggled into her pillow and shut her eyes as they backed out of her room, closing the door behind them.

Castle wrapped his arms around her the moment the door was closed. "You are so good with her," he breathed into her ear. "Thank you."

"Alexis is a sweetheart. You don't need to thank me."

"Still."

She lifted her face to smile at him and he took the opportunity to kiss her (which, okay, might have been her intent all along) and it was a little while before they made their way back downstairs.

She had reached for the TV remote to flick on the TV and was idly flipping through channels when he broke the brief silence to say, "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

She didn't like the sound of that. She turned the TV off and turned to face him. "Something else?"

"Yeah, about the book." He paused and then blurted out, "I want to go to work with you."

She stared. "What?"

"I want to shadow you at work. For research. It's how I usually do things, make things as authentic as possible. I observe someone, make notes on how they do their jobs. Your stories and what you've told me about your work are great but I want to see the details, how you actually work with the other cops and put together the clues. And spending a couple weeks in the precinct shadowing you is the best way to really get the details, the atmosphere, right, make it feel authentic."

He finished his somewhat rambling explanation and she had to briefly shut her eyes against the hope lighting his eyes. "Castle, you can't come to work with me."

"I promise to behave. I could talk to Montgomery and you know I'm friends with the DA and he could put in a good word for me with the police commissioner and possibly the mayor and—"

"No, Castle," she cut him off, feeling a little pang on seeing how his expression fell. "It's not about whether you'd be able to get permission." Knowing his connections, she guessed getting permission would not be much of an issue, even if she knew the higher-ups tended to frown on civilians getting involved with police work, even if only for the liability issues. She forced herself to go on. Ugh, she really was going soft when it came to him, hated to disappoint him. "It's me. I can't have you following me around at work."

"But I—"

"I just became a detective, Castle," she interrupted. "I'm still trying to prove myself. I'm a woman in a man's world and I was promoted fast so do you know how hard—" she broke off sharply, swallowing and then went on with forced calm, "you can probably imagine the kinds of things people have said about me."

His expression was entirely sober by now as he listened, his eyes intent and focused on her face.

She hated talking about this sort of thing, hated even thinking about it, but it was necessary. She forced herself to go on, put into words the ugly reality. "Can you imagine what people would say if I had my boyfriend, who happens to be friends with the Captain and the DA, shadow me at work as research for his book just months after I made detective? They would say I'd slept my way up, that I had my boyfriend pull some strings to get me promoted."

He blanched, even as his expression clouded over with anger, anger on her behalf. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I'm not saying never," she relented, although her initial reaction had, in fact, meant just that. But now, seeing his expression, remembering the way he'd talked about authenticity, she found her position changing. This was important to him—she could see that—and by some transitive property of the heart, that made it important to her. (Was this what being in love meant?) "I'm saying, not now."

"Oh."

She couldn't quite believe she was about to say this—how had she gone from being angry at him for writing about her to agreeing to let him shadow her at work?—but falling in love with Castle was apparently changing her in all sorts of unforeseen ways. "Just until I've proven myself as a detective, until my position is secure enough."

Hope brightened his eyes but he hesitated. "You're sure? I don't want to make your work harder."

Was she sure? No, not exactly, but for him, because this was important to him, she would do it. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't," she answered. "Give me a year, a year of being a detective, and then we'll see."

"A year," he agreed, visibly attempting to temper his eagerness but his tone betrayed him as he continued. "Actually, that works out," he brightened up, his characteristic optimism asserting itself. "Gina will probably get the edits on the first draft of the last Storm book back to me in a matter in a couple weeks and then I'll need to buckle down and go back to focusing on Storm until I get the book out so I'll have to put Nikki Heat on hold for a while anyway. So I can wait but in the meantime, you're going to need to be my inside source, tell me all about your work, in detail, answer all my questions."

"I've let myself in for it now, knowing you and your insatiable curiosity," she quipped.

He grinned. "Yeah, you're stuck with me." In more ways than one.

She pulled a face of mock dismay. "Such a terrible fate," she drawled.

"Hey!"

She laughed at his exaggerated pout and leaned in to kiss him, his mouth immediately parting for the sweep of her tongue. And this time, when he pulled her into his lap, his hands were not as restrained as they had been, sliding up her shirt, until they adjourned to his bedroom.

They fell onto his bed still locked together as their clothes were rapidly disposed of until it was just them, skin against skin, his lips and hands and tongue making her gasp and moan. She arched up into him, her own hands sliding eagerly over his smooth, hot skin, mapping the strong planes of his chest and shoulders and back, loving the familiarity and the knowledge of his body that came from months of sharing a bed with him, just loving _him_.

They moved together, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency, their bodies finding a rhythm as they always had. She clutched him, held him to her, as they fell over the edge, the soft, breathless cries of their names mingling in the air.

Afterward, he slumped over her, his face buried in her neck, as she held him, brushed soft kisses to his ear, his hair, wherever she could easily reach, reveling in his heavy weight above her, surrounding her.

But it was only for a few moments before he rolled onto his back, reversing their positions, so she ended up draped half over him, her head resting on his chest. And somehow, lying there in the dark, in his arms, with his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her ear, the words seemed easier to say.

"Castle?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He stilled, his arms tightening around her as he lifted his head to stare at her. "Kate. Really?"

He sounded so surprised, his voice husky with emotion. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. Could he really be so uncertain of her feelings?

Stupidly, her throat threatened to close up again on the words, as they seemed to lodge behind her heart. In spite of everything, she felt so… exposed, so vulnerable, in a way that had nothing to do with their physical nakedness and everything to do with her emotions, and even with him, even after all this time, she didn't like feeling vulnerable. Didn't like being so conscious of how much she needed him because with love came the possibility of loss and she knew how much loss could hurt and she wasn't sure she could ever bear that sort of loss again. She swallowed hard and found a measure of courage in the strength of his arms around her, the steadiness of his gaze. "I love you. And I love Alexis."

"Oh god, I love you too, Kate, so much." He surged up to cover her mouth with his, pouring all his emotion into his kiss, and she returned it, gloried in it. Because he loved her and she loved him and that was everything.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: I hope this satisfied…


	48. Chapter 48

Author's Note: Another chapter that I think a lot of people have been looking forward to. Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 48_

The following Thursday was when they'd arranged to have dinner with her dad.

Kate told Castle and Alexis to meet her at the precinct when her shift ended so they could head over to Mirabelli's together, mostly because she wanted to ensure that she was there to make the actual introductions, didn't want to risk her dad and the Castles arriving at Mirabelli's before she did.

What she hadn't thought of when she made this plan was that it meant Castle and Alexis would be seen meeting her in the precinct lobby. She emerged from the elevator to see Castle chatting casually with Garcia, the desk sergeant on duty.

"Hey," she greeted them all generally, with a nod for Garcia and a somewhat softer smile for Castle and she reached out to rest her hand briefly on Alexis's shoulder. The girl appeared to have dressed up just for this and was looking as pretty as a picture in a white sundress printed with blue flowers, her hair neatly pinned back with a matching blue hair barrette.

"There you are, Beckett," Castle greeted her, carefully refraining from touching her in any way.

She saw Garcia's smile widen. "Beckett, I didn't realize you were the one Mr. Castle here was meeting."

It was going to be all over the building in a matter of minutes, she knew, that she was going out with Richard Castle. She tamped down the little flutter of discomfort at the knowledge and smiled blandly. "Well, I am. Even I have a life outside of this place, you know," she joked lightly.

"Good to know. Well, have a good dinner, Mr. Castle, Detective, Alexis."

The girl dimpled up at him. "Thanks, Officer Garcia. We will."

Garcia's smile softened and she could see that he was already entirely won over by Alexis. He had kids of his own, if she remembered correctly, a little older than Alexis.

"Night, Garcia. Come on, Castle." She gave Garcia a parting wave and rested a hand on Alexis's shoulder, not quite rushing her out of the precinct but not inviting them to linger either. No need to give Garcia any more fodder for gossip. Enough that he knew that she was having dinner with Castle and his daughter.

Once they were outside, she smiled down at Alexis. "I like your dress."

Alexis beamed at her. "Thanks. I chose this dress especially for today. I want to look nice when I meet your dad."

"My dad will like you no matter what you wear," she assured lightly. "But you do look very nice."

Castle affected an expression of affront. "And what about me? Don't I look very nice too?"

Kate dropped a quick wink for Alexis's benefit before she pretended to study Castle from head to toe. He had made an effort with his appearance too, wearing slacks rather than jeans, and a nice button down shirt in a shade of maroon that contrasted beautifully with his eyes. Not that she was going to tell him so. Instead, she only pursed her lips a little. "Eh, you're not bad, I guess."

Castle gave a loud fake gasp. "Not bad! Hmph. I would have thought your vaunted powers of observation would allow you to recognize rugged handsomeness when you see it."

Alexis giggled at his show of outrage and Kate threw him a smirk. "My vaunted powers of observation can recognize rugged handsomeness just fine, thank you, like, say, Robert Downey, Jr. or Christian Bale or that spaceship captain in _Firefly_."

Castle shot her a narrow-eyed look. "I don't think I like you so much anymore," he grumbled.

"What does vaunted mean?" Alexis piped up.

He blinked, distracted from his display of pouting, and Kate grinned. "Well, Mr. Writer Man, give us a definition."

"Vaunted, an adjective," Castle began didactically, "means highly praised or boasted about, coming from the Latin word for vain, _vanus_."

"Thank you, Merriam-Webster. Did you swallow a dictionary?" Kate teased.

"Daddy reads the dictionary for fun sometimes," Alexis volunteered helpfully.

That sounded like something Castle would do, wordsmith that he was. "Remind me to alert Page Six about your exciting hobby," Kate quipped.

"Thanks, Alexis," Castle said ironically.

"You're welcome," Alexis responded blithely, the irony in his tone having gone completely over her head.

The two adults exchanged laughing glances over the girl's head and the rest of the short trip to Mirabelli's passed merrily as Castle distracted Alexis by asking her to tell Kate about the book she had just finished.

They reached Mirabelli's to see that a young man was acting as the maitre d', one who greeted the Castles familiarly, shaking Castle's hand. "Hi, Mr. Castle, it's good to see you again."

Castle clapped the young man on the shoulder. "Peter, you're home for the summer?"

Oh, right, this must be the son of the owners, Kate realized.

"Yes, the term just ended a few weeks ago so here I am." He turned his smile to Alexis. "Hi, Alexis. You've grown since I last saw you."

"Hi, Peter," Alexis said, her voice a little subdued. Kate glanced at the girl to see that she had flushed a little, looking uncharacteristically shy. Hm, Kate suspected the touch of self-consciousness was the effect of a burgeoning crush, which she supposed was understandable because Peter was a good-looking boy and must seem very grown-up and rather glamorous to Alexis's young eyes with his status as a college student. She would have to keep an eye on Alexis, see how this crush developed.

(It was only belatedly that she realized how naturally and unthinkingly she accepted the role she would play in guiding Alexis through her first pre-adolescent crush.)

Glancing at Castle, she could see that he, for once, hadn't noticed anything odd in Alexis's behavior but then again, he still thought of Alexis as being his baby girl and probably would continue to do so for at least the next decade. Castle's expression was clear as he turned to Kate, resting a hand on her back. "Kate, this is Peter, Gianni and Maria's son. Peter, this is my girlfriend, Kate Beckett."

Kate smiled at the boy, tamping down the ridiculous flutter in her chest at being called Castle's girlfriend in public. There hadn't really been any opportunities in the past for Castle to do so and hearing the words spoken to someone else sounded… different. Irrationally. "Nice to meet you, Peter."

The boy ducked his head a little as he smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Beckett."

Peter led them to a table towards the back and then left them with the words that he was going to let his parents know that they were here.

Kate took the side facing the door, as was her habit, while Castle and Alexis ranged themselves on the other side, leaving the chair beside her for her dad.

And at that moment, she saw her dad walk in the door and raised her hand in a small wave to get his attention, meeting Castle's eyes with a small nod.

Castle threw her a quick wide-eyed look as if to say, _here goes_ , as he stood up with her to greet her dad.

Kate hugged her dad. "Hi, Dad. You made it."

Her dad returned the hug and for once, her burgeoning nerves made it impossible for her to appreciate the renewed strength in his embrace. "Hi, Katie."

Her dad released her and turned to face Castle, his smile fading. "And you must be Richard Castle."

Crap. Kate hurriedly leaped in. "Yes, Dad, this is Rick Castle. My boyfriend," she added, not quite smoothly, wondering if she'd ever said the words before in reference to Castle. "Castle, my dad, Jim Beckett."

"Mr. Beckett," Castle exclaimed, his voice only slightly higher than usual, as he pasted on what Kate recognized as his charming publicity smile, extending his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"Mr. Castle," her dad nodded, unsmiling, shaking Castle's hand after a pause that was only just long enough to be noticeable.

Really? This was how her dad was going to play this?

Castle's smile slipped a little before he determinedly plastered it back on, trying to look as if he hadn't noticed a thing.

Kate gave her dad's arm as subtle a squeeze as she could manage, meeting his quick glance with a narrow-eyed look. _Be nice, Dad._ And then she turned with some relief to Alexis, the one person her dad was guaranteed to approve of. "And Dad, this is Alexis. Alexis, my dad."

Alexis, bless the girl, held out her hand, her best manners on display. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett," she said solemnly, before she dimpled into a smile after a moment.

Her dad's expression softened, as he shook Alexis's hand as gravely as if he were greeting an ambassador. "The pleasure's all mine, Miss Castle."

That made Alexis give a little giggle. "Oh, I'm just Alexis," she demurred, even as she flushed a rather pleased pink.

Her dad relaxed into a real smile. Yeah, her dad was definitely charmed. "I've heard a lot about you, Alexis."

Alexis's eyes went wide as she glanced between Kate and Jim. "Really?"

Kate smiled at the girl. "Of course. I talk about you all the time, Alexis."

"All good things," her dad assured Alexis smilingly.

Fortunately, the inevitable awkwardness of this introduction was interrupted by the arrival of Gianni and Maria, who came bustling out of the kitchen with enthusiastic cries of greeting for "Ricky and little Alexis." They gave every appearance of remembering Kate from her one previous visit, greeting her too with almost the same level of enthusiasm as they showed Castle and Alexis.

The warmth of their greeting only increased, if possible, after Castle confirmed that, yes, Kate was his girlfriend now. Kate's hand was pumped yet again by Gianni and then she found herself being pulled into a hug by Maria so she had to bend to allow the much shorter older woman to bestow two kisses, one on each cheek, in European fashion.

The older woman paused, cupping Kate's face with her hands as she studied Kate's face for a moment. "You have a kind face. You will make him happy as he deserves to be, yes?"

Kate felt herself flushing. "I'll try."

Maria gave a satisfied nod. "You will. I have faith."

"Maria, let's not scare her," Castle inserted laughingly.

Gianni and Maria's welcome for Kate's dad was just as warm, assuring him that "any friend of Ricky's" was always welcome and Maria immediately bustling back to the kitchen and returning with a basketful of breadsticks that were still warm from the oven.

The open-heartedness of Gianni and Maria's welcome effectively dissolved the awkwardness, making it nearly impossible for the same level of formality to linger even after they left them to sit down again and peruse the menus. But even so, Kate arranged things so that her dad took the seat directly across from Alexis, leaving Kate to sit across from Castle, just to make sure that the two men could not spend the meal facing off against each other.

"Gianni and Maria are old friends of yours, I take it," her dad observed, addressing Castle.

Castle straightened a little. "Yes, they are, sir," he added the word after an almost imperceptible pause. "We've known them for years now."

"They certainly appear to think highly of you."

Castle looked a little self-conscious. "I think that says more about them and their generosity than it does about me. All I've really done is keep coming back to this restaurant because the food is great."

"And you helped Peter out too, Daddy," Alexis added.

"Really?" Her dad smiled at Alexis before returning his attention to Castle. "I gathered that Peter is their son but how did you help him?"

"It wasn't a big deal, sir," Castle demurred. "All I did was talk to a couple friends of mine to help Peter get a summer internship in Charlie Palmer's restaurant."

Kate flashed Castle a smile at that; she could imagine how difficult it must be to get an internship under one of the pre-eminent celebrity chefs of the day so she suspected that Castle had done rather more than talk but it was like him to downplay his generosity.

"That was very nice of you." Her dad thawed enough to add, "And there's no need to 'sir' me. Call me Jim."

Kate hid a smile. Her dad was coming around.

Castle's expression brightened up noticeably. "Thank you, Jim. And please, call me Rick."

Her dad nodded before turning to Alexis. "So Alexis, Katie's told me that you love to read and that you're going to a day camp at the zoo and are having a great time."

Alexis was quite at her ease and was happy to expound on some of what she had done at the zoo the last few days.

Kate surreptitiously observed her dad, noting the way his smile broadened and that he appeared impressed at certain points by Alexis's vocabulary and her articulateness. She glanced at Castle to see him watching Alexis with his usual pride and then his eyes flickered to her, their eyes meeting, and she knew they were both thinking that Alexis was well on her way to charming Jim entirely.

"Well, it certainly does sound like you're having a lot of fun and I'm glad the kids at the camp are behaving themselves," her dad observed as Alexis had just finished mentioning how a couple kids had almost gotten into an argument over who got to do what but the zoo keeper had stepped in before a real fight could ensue. Her dad's quick glance at Kate was all the warning she had before he went on, blandly, "If memory serves, the first time we took Katie to the zoo when she was around 4, we almost ended up leaving early because she was pouting so much."

"Dad!" Kate exclaimed at this betrayal.

Alexis dimpled. "Really? Why was she so upset?"

"We didn't agree to buy her a stuffed penguin that was almost as big as she was. I'm still not sure why Katie decided she wanted it so much but the moment she saw it, she had her mind set on us getting it for her and she was not happy when we said no."

Kate felt herself coloring hotly and absolutely refused to look at Castle, whose suppressed amusement was practically radiating from him. Why had she thought it was a good idea for her dad to meet Castle and Alexis? "Dad, really!"

Her dad gave her a look of limpid innocence. "What, Katie? It's the truth. And in your defense, you didn't throw a tantrum or anything and you calmed down once your mom talked you into accepting the small stuffed penguin in exchange." He turned back to Alexis, finishing, "She carried that small stuffed penguin around every day for a while after that."

"Wait, that was why Mom got me Happy?" Kate blurted out unthinkingly. "I don't remember that."

Castle exploded into an unsuccessfully muffled snicker. "Happy the penguin?" he murmured, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter.

Kate shot Castle a dirty look. "Shut up. I was only 4!" And then added, "I'm going to ask Martha what you named your favorite toys when you were little."

That made him sober. "She won't tell."

She raised her eyebrows at him. They both knew that Martha would; from what Kate had seen of Martha, she would rather delight in embarrassing Castle, out of love, of course. "I'm trained in interrogation," she countered instead.

"Daddy loved dinosaurs when he was little. He had some plastic dinosaur toys he took everywhere with him," Alexis supplied helpfully. "Grams told me. His favorite was a plastic Tyrannosaurus Rex named Ike."

It was Castle's turn to flush and exclaim over a betrayal. "Alexis!"

Her dad laughed out loud and Kate grinned, okay, more of a smirk, at Castle. "Ike the T-Rex?" she repeated.

Castle narrowed his eyes at her. "Remind me to buy a muzzle for my mother." He turned a look of exaggerated reproach on Alexis. "And as for you, daughter, you're not my favorite anymore."

Alexis gave him a sunny smile that was only bordering on cheeky. "I was only being honest and honesty is the best policy, right?"

Kate's dad took this opportunity to jump in. "That's right, Alexis."

Kate snickered at Castle's nonplussed expression since he obviously could not endorse lying. "She's got you there, Castle."

Castle started to make a face at her but then, remembering her dad's presence, controlled his expression and Kate contented herself with smirking at him.

Now that Kate and Castle had both been embarrassed by their respective (quisling) family members, there was very little chance of any awkwardness or stiffness remaining. And that proved to be true even after there was an interruption in the form of the waiter returning to take their orders.

Alexis had obviously decided she liked Kate's dad and immediately addressed him, "Kate told me that you're a lawyer and that you like baseball. What's it like being a lawyer?"

Her dad seemed a little unsure how to answer this, starting by temporizing, "Well, there are lots of different kinds of lawyers," but he grew more comfortable as he went on to describe in general terms what he did, trying to keep big companies from doing bad things, as he put it.

Alexis was as interested in this as she was to learn anything and if there was a person who could have resisted being charmed by having a child listen to them with an air of fascination, that person was certainly not Jim, whose words were becoming more animated and his expression brighter.

Kate glanced at Castle, who sensed her gaze and turned to meet her eyes, giving him a small smile and meaningful glance at Alexis. _Alexis has definitely won my dad over._

Castle nodded a little, his eyes moving to rest on Alexis for a moment before returning to Kate. _Yeah, she is kind of magical like that._

It was irrational but to Kate, the exchange of glances had been as clear as telepathy. And it left a warm little glow in her chest, this silent communication—or was it communion—with Castle, even as neither of them said a word, quite happy to let Alexis continue charming Jim Beckett.

But then Alexis turned and asked Castle a question, bringing them into the conversation.

Jim waited until Castle had answered Alexis before he stepped in, changing the subject. "Rick, I understand you're a writer but I have to admit that I haven't read any of your books. Tell me about your writing."

Kate raised her eyebrows at Castle since she remembered his reticence about his writing. She was wondering if he would give some evasive, stock answer as he occasionally did in his interviews, which was not likely to impress her dad, but he surprised her.

Castle straightened, his expression becoming thoughtful. "I like to think of my writing as character studies into human behavior, looking into the heart of what makes people tick," he began consideringly. "The way some people behave bewilders me so in my writing, I try to explore 'man's inhumanity to man,' to quote Robert Burns. I suppose you could say I'm trying to explain the unexplainable, the nature of evil and of good too, as it were." He quirked a self-deprecating smile as he added wryly, "I guess that's just a very pretentious way of saying that I've always liked a good story, with action and drama and compelling characters."

She was listening to her favorite living author talk about his writing, it occurred to her, the faint sense of unreality returning to her.

"Put like that, I may have to finally try reading one of your books," her dad responded.

Kate glanced at her dad in some surprise.

He caught her look and returned, "I'm not too old to try something new." Grief flickered across his face before he went on, managing to sound reasonably calm. "Your mom always said I'd have to give in and try one of the mysteries she liked so much one day."

Kate managed a pale smile at the memories this evoked even as her heart clenched. "Mom was always right."

"I can hear her say, 'I told you so,' even now." Her dad's voice was a little husky at the end but he cleared his throat and forced a faint smile as he turned back to address Castle, whose expression had softened with so much understanding it gave Kate's heart another pang, before the expression was smoothed out. "I don't know if Katie's told you that her mom liked your books, Rick."

"She told me. I'm honored to know it," Castle answered soberly.

"Yes, well," her dad murmured, and there was a brief pause, almost like a moment of silence to remember her mom. And then her dad spoke up with some forced heartiness, "It made me even more curious to meet you for real, Rick. After all, it's not every day that a man meets his daughter's favorite author."

Oh crap. Kate felt herself flushing as Castle turned bright, surprised eyes on her. "Dad!" she protested in something approaching a hiss. "I never said he was my favorite author," she insisted. It was true and anyway, Castle wasn't her favorite author exactly. There were authors she liked better; they just happened to be dead.

Her dad gave her a look of guileless surprise—a little too guileless. "Isn't he? How many other author's books have you waited in line for more than in hour to get signed?"

"Kate!" Castle burst out with something approaching glee. "You never told me that you came to a book signing."

"You know I went to your signing back in March," she prevaricated, deliberately misunderstanding him.

"You said you went to one of Richard Castle's book signings a couple years ago, Katie," her dad prompted, traitor that he was. She was definitely starting to regret letting her dad meet Castle. Why had she thought this was a good idea again?

"Kate, really?" Castle looked and sounded delighted, a smug lift to his lips. Oh, she was never hearing the end of this.

"Fine, yes, I did," Kate admitted with bad grace. "But it was no big deal," she hurriedly added.

"Oh?" Her dad looked innocent surprise. Innocent, ha! "How many other author's book signings have you been to?"

"I'm too busy with work," she gritted out. "And I didn't know you remembered me telling you about the signing."

Too late she realized what her statement could be taken to mean. Because when she'd told him about it a few years ago, it had been during one of her dad's sporadic sober periods. She had rather expected those periods would remain as fuzzy as his drinking periods. She hadn't been thinking of that at all, would certainly not have mentioned it in front of Castle and Alexis, she'd been trying to make a lame joke out of it.

Her dad's expression fell a little, darkening, and she realized with a twist of her heart that he had picked up on it, but he rallied enough to say with a creditable attempt at humor, "I'm not quite as senile as you think, Katie."

Her dad's response somehow saved the moment from becoming too fraught and then the emotion was dissipated helpfully by the voice of Alexis, who, being serenely unconscious of Kate's dad's troubles, had not picked up on any of the undercurrents. "Did you really come to a signing, Kate? Which one? I've been to some of Daddy's signings too."

"It wasn't one you were at, Alexis," Kate answered, turning to the girl with some gratitude. "I would definitely have remembered seeing you. It would have been so much cooler than meeting this one," she added lightly, tilting her head towards Castle.

"But I thought I was your _favorite_ author," Castle threw her a look of exaggerated reproach.

Kate winked at Alexis before drawling, "Alexis is much cooler than you are, so she wins."

Alexis giggled. "Yeah, I win, Daddy!"

Castle gave Alexis a look of outrage that was so overblown that even Jim chuckled at it.

Fortunately for Castle, their food arrived at that moment, causing a stir and a distraction as they started to eat and for a while, conversation mostly centered on the meals. And perhaps mellowed out by the delicious food, no more embarrassing topics came up over the course of the meal.

Her dad didn't need to ask more than a couple questions to encourage Alexis into chatting with her usual blitheness about her life, the book she had just read and her latest outing with her friends and going shopping with Martha. Kate couldn't help but notice not only how much of Alexis's tales she was already familiar with, knowing all of Alexis's friends and having met most of them on that Open House event at Alexis's school a few weeks ago, but also how much of Alexis's artless patter mentioned Kate. Kate wasn't sure if it was deliberate or not, Alexis trying in her polite way to talk about things that Kate's dad would be more interested in hearing than stories involving people he didn't know, but it served to bring home to Kate just how involved, how important, she had become to Alexis's life. To feature in Alexis's stories almost as often as Castle did and rather more often than even Martha.

She felt a pang of self-doubt, not for the first time becoming conscious of the _responsibility_ of it, of becoming such a big part of Alexis's life. Of helping and guiding Alexis through pre-adolescence and past it. Oh, Castle would be there and would help, she knew, but as puberty neared, Alexis would inevitably turn to her, Kate, as the primary female figure in her life—because that was what she was now, wasn't it?

She hadn't really thought of it before—Alexis was still very much a child after all—but after that hint at adolescent self-consciousness around Peter, Kate could see the hints of change in the not-so-distant future. And that was a little terrifying, because adolescence wasn't exactly an easy time to begin with, and to know Alexis would be relying on her…

But as she listened to Alexis's blithe prattle, she found herself being oddly reassured. Yes, she might still wonder sometimes if she was enough, if she was really the right person to have around a kid. But listening to Alexis's stories, she was starting to see that, at least where Alexis was concerned, she was doing something right, at least so far. She might feel like she was making it up as she went along—no, she was definitely making it up as she went along. She didn't know much about kids, didn't have a lot of babysitting experience, and really, nothing in her life had prepared her for this, to become a stepmother to a little girl. Wait, stepmother? Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she tried to retreat, deny, explain away the mental slip, but somehow, the word stayed, stubbornly fixed in her mind. (She was blaming Lanie, she decided, through the flutters of burgeoning terror.) Oh god, was she really thinking—hoping—in terms of that—the m-word already?

She wasn't sure what she did or how she looked but whatever it was made Castle dart a questioning glance at her that she caught, their eyes meeting. And she couldn't explain it but just meeting his eyes made the butterflies that had started to riot in her stomach calm somewhat. She wouldn't worry about it. There was nothing to worry over anyway. She loved him and he loved her and that was all she needed to know. They had time.

Dinner passed pleasantly and Kate was pleased to see her dad's demeanor becoming more relaxed, his manner cordial, as the evening went on. Castle was, of course, on his best behavior, going out of his way to be charming, and Alexis was always charming.

Castle insisted on getting the check when it arrived, overriding her dad's faint protest. "I insist, Jim, really."

Her dad relented, sitting back in his seat. "That's very kind of you, Rick, thank you."

Castle smiled. "I'm just glad we were able to meet."

After Castle paid (no doubt leaving a generous tip for Gianni and Maria), the four of them left the restaurant.

"I'll see you home, Dad," Kate volunteered, linking her arm with his in a gesture she hadn't done in years but somehow felt right now. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, I guess," she addressed Castle and Alexis. She had every intention of returning to the loft but there was no need to broadcast that in her dad's presence.

Alexis threw her arms around Kate in a hug. "Good night, Kate." She drew back and shot a smile at Kate's dad. "Night, Mr. Beckett."

"Good night, Alexis, Rick," her dad said smilingly.

Castle shot Kate a private glimmer of a smile that indicated he understood what she meant, a look that said _I'll be waiting_ , before he turned a more usual smile to Jim, offering his hand. "We should meet up again soon. Maybe you can come over to the loft next time."

"I'd like that, Rick, thank you. Take care of yourself."

Castle hailed a cab for himself and Alexis while Kate and her dad turned to walk for a little while since the night was pleasant.

"Well, Dad?" Kate asked after a moment.

"Dinner was delicious, thanks, Katie. And I must say Gianni and Maria were very friendly and welcoming. It was nice to meet them," her dad answered blandly and went on in that fashion, inquiring if she had eaten enough at dinner and praising the pasta he had eaten and the cannoli for dessert.

Her dad was enjoying himself too much, she thought rather sourly. At another time, she would have been delighted to see this evidence of her dad's high spirits—she'd seen too much of his unhappiness in recent years—but it was less than delightful now, when it was at her expense.

"Dad!" she exclaimed when he had paused for breath.

He shot her a look of innocent inquiry. "Hmm?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you think about Castle, Dad?"

"He's taller than I remembered," her dad observed.

Definitely less than delightful. "Dad," she gritted out, stretching the word into two syllables, her voice sliding perilously close to petulance, a tone that was absolutely unbefitting of her age.

Her dad had the nerve to chuckle before he sobered and answered, "I liked him, Katie. He seems like a good man."

She ducked her head to aim a small, private smile at the sidewalk. "He is," she confirmed quietly. He was such a good man.

"And he loves you," her dad finished matter-of-factly.

She coughed in surprise, turning to stare at her dad, feeling heat singe her cheeks. He—um—she knew Castle loved her—he'd said so and she hugged that knowledge close to herself—but to hear her dad say it… "Dad…"

Her dad met her eyes, his expression softening, a faint, almost wistful smile just touching his lips. "I've been in love, Katie; I can tell when another man is in love and with my only daughter at that."

Her breath caught in her throat. Was her dad really comparing what he had felt for her mom to what Castle felt for her? Oh. Oh wow. Her dad really did like Castle.

"I—he makes me happy, Dad," she confessed softly. "He and Alexis both," she added.

Her dad's smile brightened at the mention of Alexis. "Alexis seems like a great kid, bright and well-mannered."

"She is. Castle's done a really good job with her."

"And so have you," her dad inserted, surprising her.

"Me? I haven't—" she began.

"Katie, I was listening when Alexis talked tonight," her dad forestalled her gently. "The way she talked about you. That girl adores you."

She did know that but… "I think that says more about how sweet Alexis is than it does about me."

"I'm sure Alexis is sweet-natured but she's a bright child, who would hardly attach herself to someone who didn't treat her right."

"Dad, I… sometimes I wonder because I feel like I don't really know what I'm doing where Alexis is concerned," she admitted in a rush, a little surprised she was admitting any such thing but the confession was made.

"And you worry because you don't want to make any mistakes that might harm Alexis in some way?"

She released a breath. "Yeah." She hadn't exactly intended to confide in her dad like this but it occurred to her belatedly that she was rather glad she had—glad that she could—because her dad was, after all, the only person in whom she could confide about some of her lingering doubts. Castle was too closely involved and Lanie, for all her worldly knowledge in other respects, had no more mothering knowledge than Kate herself did.

Her dad stopped, turning to face her, his expression somehow serious even though he was smiling faintly. "Oh Katie-girl, the fact that you even admit that means that you have nothing to worry about."

She frowned a little.

Her dad's expression softened with understanding. "You're not going to like this because you've always been such a perfectionist, wanting to know all the answers, but Katie, that uncertainty and worry is part of being a parent and it doesn't go away, not if you're doing it right."

That was… not helpful. And why was she not panicking at the way her dad so easily referred to her as a parent?

"You'll do your best, Katie. And you'll make mistakes because you're human—all parents do—but you'll make up for them and learn from them and Alexis will be just fine because, at the risk of falling into a cliché, the most important thing is that you love her."

"I do," she admitted, very softly, her heart clenching.

"And you love him too."

She flushed hotly. "Yes," the one word just above a breath. As affirmations went, it was a lame one but it was as much as she could manage right then.

"My Katie-girl." And then her dad was wrapping his arms around her, right there on the sidewalk, as she buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. He drew back to cup her face with both his hands in a gesture that reminded her of her mom. "I'm happy for you, you know that, right?"

She managed a wobbly smile, through the twist of pain in her chest because, oh, she missed her mom. She wanted to be talking to her mom about Castle, about Alexis. "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled at her, a smile that she remembered from her childhood, and then kissed her forehead before he hailed a cab for her, overriding her attempt to insist that he take the cab, and sent her off while he waited for the next cab.

She directed the cab to the loft, to the added reassurance in the light in Alexis's eyes and the warmth of Castle's embrace, and knew that it was all she needed.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: Thank you to all readers and reviewers.


	49. Chapter 49

Author's Note: In which Lanie gets her say (again). Enjoy!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 49_

"Blue or red?"

Kate found this question tossed at her from the depths of Castle's closet as she entered the bedroom from the en suite. She had gone for a morning run while Castle and Alexis took advantage of it being Saturday morning to sleep in. Castle had just woken up and finished his morning shower when she returned from her run and they had switched places in the bathroom with little more than a brief exchange of smiles. She wondered peripherally when this—sharing a room with Castle, getting ready in the morning with him—had become so… normal that he didn't bat an eye at her return from her run, so normal that they didn't even need to exchange words. Until now, whatever his question meant.

"Huh, what?"

Castle emerged from his closet, holding two shirts, one a shade of his favorite cobalt blue and the other a deep red that was almost burgundy. Her eyes and her attention flickered down, momentarily distracted by the sight of his (delectable) naked chest since he was clad only in jeans at the moment. (Had she mentioned that she loved his chest, the planes of his muscles, his firm, flat stomach?)

She dragged her eyes back up to his face to catch the smirk on his lips. He'd noticed her momentary distraction. "What was your question?" she asked quickly, trying to distract him.

"I wanted to know if you thought I should go with the blue shirt or the red one but now I'm thinking maybe you'd prefer if I just didn't wear a shirt at all."

She rolled her eyes. Trust him to take any opportunity to preen. And damned if she didn't find it adorable. (What was wrong with her?) She approached him almost in spite of her better judgment but he was there and half-naked still and what, she was allowed to touch. She lifted a hand to rest on his chest but sternly did not allow the hand to wander. "Mm, no, you ought to know by now that I prefer to keep this view only to myself."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly. "No one ever taught you to share, huh?"

"Nope. I don't share. I'm selfish like that."

His expression sobered a little—and she knew he was thinking of Meredith and how things had ended with her—although he kept his voice light. "It's a character flaw but I guess I can live with it since I don't like to share either. So this view is all yours."

She laughed softly and rose up on her toes to brush a quick kiss to his lips. "And to answer your question, when in doubt, go with blue. Brings out your eyes."

He obediently hung the burgundy shirt back up in his closet, which was meticulously organized, shirts color-coded and all hanging neatly, his slacks all folded along the crease and hung up. It was one of the things about him that had surprised her at first, that he really was such a metrosexual sometimes. "Put a lot of thought into the color of my shirts, have you?" he teased as he shrugged into the blue shirt. She helped him button it, more as an excuse to avoid meeting his eyes since she didn't feel like admitting just how long and how much she had thought about his eyes. Or that she'd had more than a couple dreams about him even before they'd gotten together where his eyes—and his voice and his smile and his hands—had featured quite prominently.

"I'm a detective. It's my job to notice things."

"Of course and that's why you're blushing right now."

Damn it. She quickly moved to deflect attention. "Anyway, why did you need my opinion to pick out a shirt?"

He shifted a little, an odd expression crossing his face.

Wait… "Castle, are you nervous about having brunch with Lanie today?" Why would he be nervous?

"Nervous is such a strong word," he prevaricated.

She sternly bit back the urge to laugh. "Okay, then, why would you be not-nervous about seeing Lanie again? You know she liked you that time we ran into you at Remy's."

"We weren't dating then. She had no reason back then to care about any stupid thing I might say or do and she's your best friend. I have too much respect for women's friendship not to realize that if Lanie doesn't approve of me," he pulled an expressive face of dismay before finishing, "it would get really awkward, really fast."

He was so cute and it was so precious that he allowed her to see his insecurity now, allowed her to be the one to reassure him.

"You won my dad over and he was always going to be the harder sell so I really don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I think Alexis was the one who really won your dad over but I'm happy to take the credit for it," he quipped.

"Nice of you," she mocked dryly, patting his chest. "But seriously, Castle, Lanie's been on your side since even before we got together. She was the one urging me to give you a chance." Not Lanie's exact words, of course, but she had no intention of telling Castle that Lanie had urged her to be "all over" him.

"Was she? Remind me to thank her for that," he relaxed enough to smile and then bent to kiss her with a tenderness that quickly morphed and escalated into something more powerful, his tongue hot and eager as it swept into her mouth.

"Daddy!"

They broke apart on a start at the sound of Alexis's voice calling him and Castle let out a faint groan, briefly resting his forehead against hers. "I'm being summoned," he said with a small sigh before he was heading to the door. "Yes, I'm coming, pumpkin."

Castle's absence allowed Kate to finish getting dressed for their brunch but he returned even faster than she'd expected, finding her in the en suite putting on her makeup.

"Alexis okay?"

"It turns out she doesn't need me after all," he announced with mock woe. "I appear to have been supplanted."

"What are you talking about? I'm sure Alexis didn't say any such thing."

"She said, and I quote, 'I changed my mind, Daddy, I don't want you; I want Kate. Can you get her please?' I feel so replaceable," he pulled a face of such exaggerated pouting that she knew he was only joking and relaxed a little.

"You'll get over it," she advised lightly, patting him on the shoulder, as she went upstairs. She found Alexis in her room, wearing a blue shirt with a sequined butterfly on it, which Kate vaguely remembered had been a gift from Martha, on top of a denim skirt. "Alexis? Your dad said you wanted to see me."

Alexis spun to flash her a beaming smile. "Morning, Kate! And yes, I did. I was wondering if you could help me with my hair."

"Of course I can," she agreed easily, going further into the room to stand behind Alexis. "How do you want me to do your hair?"

Alexis tilted her head and scrunched up her face as she pondered the question with that seriousness that was so characteristic of her, as if her life hinged on her hairstyle that day. Kate wondered sometimes where Alexis got her seriousness but then she remembered the single-minded intensity of focus Castle got when he was writing or otherwise intently concentrating and she recognized it, even if it manifested itself in different ways in the daughter than it did the father. "Mm, a braid, I think." She paused and then nodded decisively. "Yes, a braid."

"A French braid again or just a regular braid or pigtails?"

This question required another few moments of intense thought before the girl decided, "Just a regular braid today and no pigtails, thank you, Kate."

"One regular braid, it is," Kate agreed, reaching for Alexis's hairbrush to comb the girl's silky hair out before she started to braid.

"Daddy can do a regular braid too but he's not very good at it even though he tries. He makes it kind of crooked a lot of times," Alexis confided after a moment. "But it's okay because he's doing his best so don't tell him I said anything," she added, looking concerned that she might have been unfair to her dad.

Kate hid a smile, even as her heart seemed to turn into a soft, melting thing in her chest, both at the girl for trying so hard to be fair and at the man and the mental image of him braiding his little girl's hair. She could well imagine that Castle, even with his metrosexual tendencies, would not be very good with Alexis's hair but, as Alexis said, he did his best because, of course he would. He was such a good dad.

With Alexis's words in mind, Kate was on her mettle to do Alexis's braid well and focused on it as if she was participating in some sort of hair-dressing contest, making certain it was neat and straight. "There, all done. What do you think?"

Alexis turned her head this way and that to view her hair in the mirror and then spun to give Kate a hug. "It looks great, thank you!"

Kate smiled and bent to kiss Alexis's bright hair, smoothing a few errant strands of hair away from the girl's face as she straightened. "You're very welcome and you look so cute today."

Alexis beamed. "Thank you, Kate. You look pretty too but then you always do."

Kate laughed lightly. "And I'm not even done getting ready. Thanks, Alexis."

"You're welcome. Tell Daddy I'll come down once I finish making my bed."

Kate dutifully passed on the message when she returned downstairs and true to Alexis's word, she had made it downstairs before Kate was even finished getting ready, although she finished just a couple minutes thereafter.

The three of them left the loft in good time to meet Lanie for brunch at a cafe in East Village. When they arrived, it was to find that Lanie had apparently just beaten them there because she was about to sit down at a table when she looked up and noticed them, waving them over, a smile on her face that appeared faintly sly for a moment and gave Kate a moment's warning that this could end up being awkward since Lanie didn't even have a nodding acquaintance with shyness or subtlety.

Kate tamped it down and greeted her friend with a quick hug since they were outside of work. "Hey, Lanie."

"Hey, Beckett," Lanie echoed before turning her smile to Castle. "And Castle, nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, Lanie. It's been a while." Castle rested a hand on Alexis's shoulder. "And this is my daughter, Alexis."

"Alexis, this is my friend, Lanie Parish," Kate jumped in.

Alexis dimpled up at Lanie, holding out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Parish."

Lanie's grin softened into a smile as she shook Alexis's hand. "It's Dr. Parish, actually, but you can just call me Lanie, Alexis. I've heard so much about you."

Alexis's eyes shot to Kate. "You really do talk about me a lot, don't you, Kate?"

That made them all chuckle and Kate reached out to teasingly tug Alexis's braid. "I really do, Alexis. It's like I said, you're cool and fun."

Alexis laughed at that. "You sound like Daddy. I don't think I'm nearly as interesting as he says I am."

"That's because you're modest, pumpkin," Castle joined in.

"I can't imagine where she gets it from since she certainly didn't get it from you," Kate inserted teasingly.

"I think she's got you there, Castle," Lanie joined in, throwing a smirk at Castle.

He put on an expression of exaggerated petulance. "I don't think I like this if all of you are going to gang up on me. It's three against one, that's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, Daddy," Alexis instructed him seriously, quite as if the sentiment had never been expressed before.

Kate laughed, catching Lanie's glance and giving a small nod. _See, I told you Alexis is clever._ "That's right, Alexis, but who told you that?"

"Oh, Grams did," Alexis said airily—and predictably, Kate supposed.

Castle covered his eyes with his hand in a gesture of mock despair. "My mother is a bad influence."

"No, she's not," Alexis defended her grandmother and then addressed Lanie. "Daddy's being silly. He does that."

Lanie laughed out loud at that. "So I've heard."

"Lanie, Kate told me that you work together so I thought you were a cop too. Are you a doctor and a cop because that would be so cool," Alexis changed the subject.

"No, I'm not a cop," Lanie answered. "I'm a medical examiner and that's why I work with cops like Kate a lot."

"What's a medical examiner?" Alexis asked, tilting her head in one of her curious postures.

"Well," for the first time Lanie hesitated, clearly trying to decide how to describe her job in an age-appropriate way. "I examine dead people to find out why they died."

"Examine them—does that mean you have to cut them open?" Alexis inquired directly, rendering Lanie's caution useless.

"Yes, it does."

Alexis wrinkled her nose in an involuntary expression of disgust although she was too polite to say so but then, being Richard Castle's daughter, her disgust was quickly subsumed by her curiosity. "That must be really interesting, finding out why people died."

"Well, I think so. It can be a little gross sometimes," Lanie admitted frankly, "but it is interesting."

"So you find out why people died and that helps detectives like Kate find out who killed them?" Only Castle's daughter would sound so upbeat and eager in asking such a question.

"You've got it exactly. Smart girl," Lanie praised.

Alexis beamed with pleasure. "Thanks but it's because Kate's told me a lot about her work and Daddy's told me stuff too. He knows a lot about killing people."

Of course, that was the exact moment that the server chose to appear and Alexis collapsed into a peal of giggles while Kate and Lanie both burst out laughing. Castle did not laugh and hurried to interject, "In fiction! I just make things up." He pasted on a rather too-wide and friendly smile as he addressed the server. "Good morning, Tommy, is it? I take it you're going to be looking after us today."

The boy, to his credit, didn't bat an eye and only addressed them all with a generally friendly smile. "Yes, I'm Tommy and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with anything to drink besides water?"

The adults ordered coffees while Alexis asked for orange juice and Tommy left.

Alexis was the one who recovered her composure the fastest—Kate and Lanie were still snickering—and she returned to the subject of Lanie's job immediately. "Your job sounds so cool, Lanie. You must have such neat stories."

"Some but most of it isn't appropriate for a meal. But there was this one time when I was in training that we played a prank on one of the other trainees. One of us pretended to be a dead person and lay down on one of the slabs with a gorilla mask on and the sheet over his body, just like any of the other bodies, and we told the trainee he needed to check something on the body but when he lifted off the sheet, the guy sat up and roared. The trainee almost peed his pants, he was so scared, and the rest of us almost fell over laughing."

Alexis and Castle laughed too. "That was mean, Lanie," Alexis protested even as she was laughing, "but it is funny."

"It's priceless," Castle corrected, grinning. "That's awesome. I wish I could have seen it."

"I want to hear more stories. And how do you get to become a medical examiner?" Alexis asked with her usual curiosity.

Lanie threw Castle a droll look. "I'm definitely seeing the resemblance between you two."

Castle shrugged and smiled. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

But of course, Lanie was no more proof against Alexis's eagerness than Kate's dad had been and proceeded to tell Alexis about how she had become a medical examiner and some stories from medical school and her training afterwards, to all of which Alexis listened with her usual fascination.

Kate could see that Lanie was enjoying herself and was obviously delighted to be listened to so closely by Alexis and Castle too, for that matter, Castle going so far as to take notes in a little notebook. Lanie's stories lasted well into their meal and then Lanie engaged Alexis with some questions about books and school and her friends, which Alexis was equally happy to answer. So all in all, the brunch passed quickly and enjoyably and without any of the awkwardness Kate had feared.

After they had finished eating, Alexis excused herself to go to the bathroom and in what had become a familiar colloquy to Kate, Castle asked if Alexis wanted someone to accompany her and she huffed that she was fine because she wasn't a baby.

Alexis walked away, Castle's eyes following her and for a moment, a shadow of something approaching wistfulness crossed his face, no doubt thinking of how quickly Alexis was growing, how much more independent she was getting to be.

But then he blinked and turned his gaze back to Lanie as she began, "So, Castle…"

"Hmm?"

"I hear you're pretty good at keeping Beckett here satisfied in bed," Lanie stated blandly.

It was a toss-up as to whose reaction was more extreme or who flushed brighter as Kate sputtered, "Lanie!" and Castle choked on air and then coughed violently.

Lanie assumed a Cheshire cat smile as she grinned at their discomfiture.

"Lanie!" Kate protested again, finally managing to put together actual words. "I didn't—you can't—that's private!" She turned to Castle, although she knew she was blushing hotly. "Don't listen to her. I haven't told her anything really."

Lanie nudged her. "I know. Some friend you are," she pretended to grumble. "You haven't given me any juicy details."

Kate glared at Lanie. "The details of our private life are just that, private." She glanced at Castle to see that he appeared to have fully recovered from his own embarrassment and was now smirking, his eyes dancing with smug mischief. "And you, shut up."

He widened his eyes in a look of mock innocence. "I didn't say anything."

"Your smirk says volumes. So stop it."

He made a show of smoothing his expression out although a faint telltale quirk at the corners of his lips lingered, giving him away.

Kate rolled her eyes but decided to let it go, in favor of shooting Lanie a direful look. "Behave, Lanie."

Fortunately, Alexis reappeared almost immediately thereafter, ensuring that Lanie necessarily tabled any reference to sex. Thank goodness for the kid.

And thankfully, since Alexis stuck around after that, there was no more opportunity for Lanie to embarrass Kate so she survived brunch without further mortification-and without murdering her best friend.

Castle insisted on paying for brunch and succeeded in slipping his card to Tommy before Kate could and only smiled at her huff, while Kate made a mental note to take Alexis out sometime soon. (Kate had resolved that since Castle so rarely allowed her to pay for anything when he was around, she would simply make up for it by taking Alexis out, when she would obviously pay.)

They went their separate ways after brunch, Lanie saying she needed to take care of some errands, while Kate and Castle went to drop Alexis off at the birthday party of a school friend. Kate wasn't surprised to find her phone buzzing with a text message from Lanie within minutes. And she managed to keep from reacting visibly at the message, well, two messages in quick succession.

 _You should marry him._

 _Marry him for his kid, if nothing else._

Kate made a mental note not to let Castle get a hold of her phone anytime soon. Lanie was incorrigible. (And not wrong but Kate wasn't about to dwell on that. Not now, not yet. Later but not yet.)

* * *

Castle listened to Alexis's happy anticipation of her friend's birthday party since it would allow her to see some of her school friends whom she hadn't seen since the school year ended with the warmth pervading his chest that he always felt when he knew his little girl was happy. His eyes moved to Kate's face, where he could see a faint smile playing around her lips although she was looking down at Alexis. And not for the first time, he momentarily forgot how to breathe because she was just so lovely and he could not believe sometimes that he could be so lucky to be with this woman. And she _loved_ him. The knowledge, the memory of her words, had him simultaneously wanting to shout to the world that the most amazing woman he'd ever met loved him and also wanting to clutch the knowledge to his own heart in secret, like a miser might hoard a precious treasure.

Alexis's friend's home wasn't far and they dropped her off in good time, staying a few minutes to exchange pleasantries with Alexis's friend's mom (Castle had made a point of getting to know all of Alexis's friends and their parents) and promising to pick Alexis up in a few hours.

When they left, Kate turned to Castle. "Is there anything you wanted to do this afternoon while Alexis is busy?"

Aside from spending the afternoon with her? "No, why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you'd go somewhere with me." There was a faintly odd intonation in her voice as she said, somewhere, that made him think she was being deliberately unspecific.

"Somewhere?" he echoed. "If you're inviting me to your place for an afternoon quickie, Beckett, I'm totally up for it," he quipped and then snickered at his own inadvertent double entendre.

She snorted a little, rolling her eyes. "No, nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter, Castle."

He was getting better at reading Beckett, although he suspected that a lifetime or two would be necessary for him to truly know her—a study to which he would happily devote himself—and he belatedly recognized the faint lines of tension around her lips, a hint of stiffness in the set of her shoulders. Subtle signs, of course, since Beckett had a poker face worthy of the world championships in poker but now that he looked closely, he could see them. He sobered. Whatever this was, it was clearly not something to joke about. "Of course, I'm at your disposal, Beckett."

She gave him a small smile before she hailed a cab for them.

She leaned forward and gave the cab driver their destination in a quiet voice as he was still getting into the taxi so he missed it. "Do you want to tell me where we're going?" he asked mildly.

"I thought you liked surprises, Castle."

He smiled. "So it's a surprise, is it? Ooh, intriguing. Surprise away."

She let out a brief laugh at that, her expression easing, which contented him, and they passed the cab ride mostly in silence, exchanging only some desultory observations. Besides which, he knew that Beckett, being the private person that she was, didn't like having any real conversations in a cab, knowing that the driver could hear them.

He tensed and sucked in a quick breath when the cab turned into a cemetery. "Kate…" he breathed, turning to stare at her. Oh. Oh god. Her mom—she had brought him to see her mom's grave.

She managed a small, somewhat shaky, smile for him but didn't say anything until after the cab came a stop and she handed the driver cash before sliding out of the car, leaving him to scramble to do the same on the other side.

He hurried to return to her side, something inside him easing indefinably, as she immediately reached out to grasp his hand. "Would you like to meet my mom, Castle?" she offered quietly.

"I would love to," was all he could say.

She was obviously familiar with the way, her steps sure, as she led them along the paths in between headstones. And for once, he was too preoccupied to be distracted reading the headstones, imagining the stories of the people lying here.

His steps did hitch after a little while as he abruptly realized… "I don't have anything with me," he blurted out in sudden dismay. "I didn't bring flowers or anything." If he'd known…

Kate glanced at him, her expression softening. "My mom will understand."

"I know, but…" He shrugged a little, helplessly. He did know that but he still felt a little awkward, "meeting" his future mother-in-law (oh god) empty-handed.

She shot him a faint, rather teasing smile. "You survived brunch with Lanie and meeting my dad. I think you can handle meeting my mom."

He returned her smile with one of his own. "Well, then, lead the way."

She did, her steps slowing, her expression changing to become sad and somber, as they approached and he followed her gaze, found a tree and then a tombstone next to it. As they neared, the letters on the tombstone became clear. Johanna Beckett.

He tightened his hand around hers as they came to a stop before the stone.

He waited, almost afraid to breathe in case the sound would break the silence, and then Kate let out a breath and began, quietly, "Hi, Mom. I brought someone to meet you. This is Rick Castle, the author… and my boyfriend." Her gaze flickered to him. "Castle, my mom, Johanna Beckett."

Ridiculously, he felt his throat closing on sudden nervousness, the same way it had when he'd met Jim Beckett just days ago. He swallowed. "Hi, Mrs. Beckett. It's an honor." His voice didn't quite sound like himself but he couldn't help that.

She squeezed his hand and he glanced at her, the tightness in his chest easing at the sight of her faint smile. She shifted closer to him and he took the hint, releasing her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. She curved into his embrace with a small sigh, settling her head on his shoulder. After a moment, she looked up to meet his eyes, offering him a faint glimmer of a smile. "You're missing out on my mom's fangirl reaction to meeting you."

He smiled a little. "Really?"

"Yeah." She smiled more definitely, although her smile was still tinged with sadness. "I told you she read your books so she would be thrilled. She… she even said a couple times that she'd like to get a chance to meet you, wanted to go to one of your signings."

"Did she ever?" he asked, had to ask, because the thought that he might once have met Kate's mom, even in the impersonal encounter at a book signing, made his heart leap a little, like it would be an affirmation of fate or something.

"No, she didn't have time; she was always so busy." Kate paused and then added, "My dad went to a signing though."

He blinked. "Your dad? But he said he hadn't read my books."

"He didn't go for you, Castle; he went for my mom, surprised her with the signed copy of _A Season for Slaughter."_

 _A Season for Slaughter_ —so that meant it had to have been in 1997. "I don't remember," he admitted ruefully. It seemed as if he should remember, somehow. As if, oh, fate or some instinct or something should have told him that he was meeting the father of the love of his life.

He was conscious of a sense of loss, a personal one, this time, a sense that he had lost something too—the chance to meet and get to know Johanna Beckett. Because she was someone it would have been a privilege and a pleasure to know, for her own sake and not only because she was Kate's mother. He already liked Jim Beckett and could tell that he would undoubtedly become more fond of Jim over time but with Johanna, he would never have that chance.

"You had no reason to remember him," Kate reasoned. "My dad would have just been another in a long line of fans."

"I know, but still…"

"It's okay, Castle."

He returned his gaze to focus on Johanna Beckett's tombstone again, noting her birthday and the fatal January 9th, as well as the Latin motto—truth conquers all. He was reminded of Kate's tattoo; valuing truth had clearly been passed from mother to daughter.

Johanna Beckett had died young—and god knows, it hurt to think of just how young Kate herself had been when her mom died.

"Castle, I was thinking of bringing Alexis out here some time, if that's okay."

He shifted back just enough so he could look at her. "Are you asking my permission? You don't have to."

"I thought I should check because cemeteries aren't exactly the best places for kids and then because of how my mom died, not a natural death…" She trailed off with a little grimace that was the facial equivalent of a shrug.

He loved her for how much she cared about Alexis, he thought for about the millionth time. "I write about murders and Alexis knows that."

"But you don't allow her to read your books."

"No, but it means that Alexis knows about the fact of murder. And I trust you so I trust that you wouldn't take Alexis somewhere dangerous or expose her to anything inappropriate." Knowing Kate and the care she always took of Alexis, he suspected that, if anything, Kate would be more cautious and protective of Alexis than even he was. "And Kate," he added, treading a little more carefully now, cautious because he wasn't sure if what he would say would hurt her as a reminder of all she had lost, "if you want Alexis to know more about your mom, I'm all for it because from what I've heard of your mom, I think she would be a great role model for Alexis, one I would be proud for Alexis to emulate."

"Castle… thank you," she breathed, giving him a shaky smile even as her eyes glistened before she turned her face into the collar of his shirt and he tightened his arms around her.

She didn't keep her expression hidden for long, not long enough to shed more than a tear or two, before she lifted her face, turning in his arms so she could look at her mom's tombstone again, letting out a shuddering sigh. "When my mom died," she began, so quietly he almost had to strain to hear it, "I thought I might never be happy again."

He controlled his inner flinch. He could recognize that it was, in part, a reflection of Kate's youth—still a teenager, after all, not really an adult at all—but still, the words made his entire chest hurt with an almost physical pain at the depths of grief, of despair, Kate's younger self had felt, all the more because he knew Kate and she wasn't overly given to melodrama or hyperbole. All he could do was tighten his arms around her, cradling her to him as if to shield her from all future pain.

"It was like I built up this wall inside me. I didn't want to let people in, didn't want to hurt like that again."

He could understand that. He remembered what she'd told him about not letting people know what was on her mind, not knowing how to let people take care of her. And he remembered, too, what she had told him about her dad and his troubles. She had not been able to turn to her dad in her grief and he didn't need to be told to guess that Kate must have needed to work through her grief alone, learned to survive on her own. If her dad had not been there for her, who else would Kate have relied on at such a time? No one. But she had done it, she had survived. He was amazed all over again at her strength, her resilience.

"But then I met you… and Alexis… and somehow, it was like you… snuck in past my defenses."

"Alexis is pretty irresistible."

She turned her face to his to give him a soft smile. "Not just Alexis, it was you too. You and the way you make me laugh, the way you are with Alexis. The way you make coffee just the way I like it," she added with a little glint of humor entering her eyes.

His lungs seemed to have forgotten how to function. For that matter, as far as he was concerned, the world had ceased spinning, everything in it holding its breath for her words. He was the writer but she had her own way with words, made him forget all of his. "Kate…"

"You, both of you, made my life better. And I think… before I even realized it, I fell in love with you."

Oh god. "I fell in love with you too," he managed to say, well, croak. At this point, he barely remembered a time since they'd met when he hadn't been in love with her, suspected he'd been at least halfway in love with her even before he'd broken up with Gina, even if the admission made him feel guilty.

She gave him another faint smile, her eyes glowing with so much love he felt warmed clear through. "You just… you make me happy, Rick, happier than I ever thought I could be. You've made me start looking forward to tomorrow."

"Kate…" he breathed, the only word he could say, and all he could do was gather her closer to him and kiss her and she kissed him back, for just a moment, before she turned her face away. "Not in front of my mom, Castle," she huffed but she was smiling and he thought his chest might actually burst from happiness.

"Sorry," he said, not apologetically, and pressed a kiss to her hair. "You're irresistible, it's like you exude a gravitational force pulling me toward you."

"Nice line, Castle."

He huffed a laugh and then they just stood there, together, with his arms around her. He knew that Kate was thinking about her mom—and so was he, making a silent vow to Johanna Beckett that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make Kate happy, spend the rest of his life loving Kate.

 _~To be continued…~_

A/N 2: This story is (finally) approaching its end so there will be a time jump before the next chapter. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.


	50. Chapter 50

Author's Note: Apologies for not posting this last week on schedule but RL got in the way of finishing this chapter up in time. I hope this makes up for the longer-than-usual wait!

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Chapter 50_

Kate finished one piece of the pile of paperwork she needed to get done this afternoon and tried not to think that if Castle were here, he'd likely have already made a fresh cup of coffee just the way she liked it, since Castle appeared to have developed a sense of whenever her energy started to flag and provided coffee accordingly.

But since Castle was not here, she had to make her own coffee. Well, getting up and stretching her legs a little wasn't a bad thing, she told herself bracingly. And really, it was beyond ridiculous how distracting Castle's absence had become.

She'd managed to get through hundreds of work days without Castle and it was absolutely absurd, irrational, and stupid to have his absence now impinging on her consciousness so much. ( _Oh just admit it, Kate_ , a voice in her mind spoke up, _you miss him_.)

Fine, yes, she missed him. It was still ridiculous though.

It had barely been a month since Castle had started shadowing her at work (as he put it) or playacting at being a cop (as she tended to put it, to tease him) but even so, in that month's time, he'd made himself… useful. He made things more fun with his trademark humor but even aside from that, he'd proven that he was observant and while some of (okay, most of) his theories tended to the outlandish, if not outright insane, he was also smart, had a knack for spotting possible connections because of his out-of-the-box thinking. It was something cops had to struggle against the longer they served in the force, the trap of only seeing what they expected to see, the commonplace, run-of-the-mill crimes. Castle might have a penchant for crazy conspiracy theories but his storytelling tendencies meant that he was good at putting all the seemingly disparate pieces of evidence together to form a story.

And Kate was sure that at least part of the reason for Castle's easy acceptance into the precinct was that he had proven to be helpful. Cops were not always the most welcoming of civilian help but for the most part, they were results-oriented and once Castle had proven himself, had accepted him. Also helped by Castle's ease with people, his hail-fellow-well-met joviality, allowing him to fall in with the humor and camaraderie.

Plus there was the espresso machine that he'd insisted on buying for the precinct his second day of shadowing her, insisting it was a necessity and the least he could do for welcoming him into the precinct. And anyone who saved them from having to drink the toxic sludge otherwise known as their coffee was going to win himself fans. Even Captain Montgomery had limited himself to a perfunctory objection about the appearance of impropriety, not as if he really meant it but more to cross off the box, and hadn't been behind in taking advantage of the machine.

As for Kate, well, she really was getting spoiled, having what amounted to her own personal barista since Castle had taken his coffee-making duties on her behalf seriously, she thought, not for the first time, as she pressed the buttons on the espresso machine, startling and flinching back as the machine emitted a sharp hiss of hot air, nearly singeing her fingers.

"It's hard having to make your own coffee, isn't it?"

Kate turned to see that Esposito, the detective who had come over from the 54th to join her and Hassan's team early this year, had entered the break room.

"Speaking of which, where is your boy this afternoon anyway?"

"He had a meeting with his publisher. And shut up," she added belatedly. "I can make my own coffee just fine, thanks."

Esposito scoffed. "Sure you can, Beckett, but why would you ever need to with Writer Boy around all the time?"

"He's not around all the time." He wasn't. "And anyway, he's going to be around less once Alexis's school year ends." While Alexis was in school, it was easier for Castle to spend his days shadowing her, especially as he had arranged for Alexis to go over to her friend Paige's house after school, allowing Castle to stick around until the end of Kate's normal shift, although he then had to leave in order to have dinner with Alexis, even on evenings when Kate herself got called to a crime scene or was otherwise working. The start of Alexis's summer vacation would necessarily change that and limit Castle's availability.

Esposito's expression softened just a smidge at the mention of Alexis's name before he sternly controlled his features into stoicism while Kate hid a smile. Esposito was a former military sniper and he liked to pretend to be a complete hard-ass but Alexis had won him over pretty much the moment she'd met him. Alexis had not spent much time in the precinct, for obvious reasons, but she had stopped by to visit a couple times with Castle. And one time about a week ago, when she, Castle, and Kate had been scheduled to have dinner and then watch a movie together only for Kate's paperwork to take longer than expected, Alexis had read in the break room—or rather, that had been the plan except Alexis had, instead, found herself to be quite a center of attention, chatting happily with Castle and Esposito and a few other cops who just happened to stop by. "Yeah, how is the kid doing?" he asked with a poor imitation of indifference.

"Alexis is great. She aced her latest math test."

"Tell the kid I said good job. She must have gotten all the brains in the family," Espo jibed.

"I'm telling Castle you said that."

"Go ahead. I can take him."

Kate laughed at that. Castle would pout but it was true. "He's a pretty good shot, you know," she said, since Castle was not around to preen. (Another surprising thing she'd learned about her boyfriend in the last month.)

"Still not as good as me," Espo retorted immediately. "When does the kid's school get out?"

"School ends in a week, which is why I'll be leaving early on Friday to go to her school's Open House. Alexis is going to be reading aloud her essay that got the highest score in her class." And Castle had only narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of knowing Alexis had inherited his talent for writing, as he put it. He'd been grinning like a Cheshire cat about it for almost a week after Alexis had told them.

A small smile, almost a smirk, escaped Espo and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, listening to you, all proud and stuff about your little girl, just like a mom, and then to think of you as Beckett, kicking down doors and taking names."

By now, Kate's heart didn't react quite so much to being referred to as Alexis's mom because, well, it was true, for all intents and purposes. It was what she wanted to be, what she was still trying every day to be. "It's called muli-tasking," she quipped. "You might give it a try sometime."

He scoffed. "I'll leave the playing-house with rugrats underfoot to you and Castle. Now, stop hogging the coffee machine."

She duly took her coffee—in the mug that Alexis had painted for her more than a year ago now—and returned to her desk.

Her desk was still primarily a utilitarian space but now, alongside the row of elephants that her mom had also kept on her desk at work, was a picture of herself and Castle, on either side of Alexis, who was in the middle, that had been taken by Martha on Alexis's 10th birthday last fall. Alexis was beaming and wearing the tiara that Castle referred to as the Birthday Crown, an accessory that he insisted everyone wear on their birthday—which, yes, included Kate on her last birthday (although she had threatened Castle with dismemberment if he ever shared any pictures of her wearing the tiara) and also included Castle himself on his birthday just months ago.

As always, the sight of the picture made her smile, a little flare of warmth going off in her chest. Her family. Her home, since she was happiest when she was with them.

And not for the first time in the last weeks, it occurred to her that maybe, it was time to talk to Castle about giving up her apartment and moving into the loft, for real. She still had her apartment, some niggling little sense of caution or fear or something not quite allowing her to give it up entirely—and in fairness, Castle had not pushed or even specifically asked her to move in. She didn't spend much time in her apartment anymore, just brief stops to retrieve some item of clothing or random keepsake. She could probably count on her two hands the number of nights she had actually spent in her apartment in the last six months or so.

Aside from that, she spent her time at the loft, with Castle and Alexis. With her work schedule, she necessarily missed dinner with them a couple times a week but she always tried to get to the loft by 9:30 so she could at least say goodnight to Alexis and she didn't volunteer to work overtime or weekend shifts when it wasn't necessary. Captain Montgomery no longer felt it necessary to force her to take a day off here and there. She had a life outside of work and she liked it, loved it.

She was happy and now, she no longer found herself expecting, or wondering, when the other shoe would drop, as it were. She was still afraid that life, the world, things outside of their control, would happen and devastate her—after what had happened to her mom, the things she saw at work every day, she was all too conscious of how quickly things could change. But she had stopped expecting that things within their control would break them up, that her relationship with Castle would not last, would founder on the rocks of her issues.

She believed in their relationship, in _them_. She still thought it was amazing but somehow, they _fit_ , this relationship that really made very little sense on paper worked. He was a multimillionaire celebrity and she was a publicity-averse, no-nonsense cop but for all their differences, they fit.

It wasn't always easy. There were certainly times when they struck the wrong sort of sparks off of each other rather than the right kind. Times when her stock of patience, never limitless to begin with, had worn down from the stress of work and made her lose patience with Castle's exuberance and tendency to silliness and she snapped at him. Other times when he got too lost in his own head, stuck in his fictional worlds, and wasn't entirely present when she wanted him to be. They'd already had one fight stemming from his fame when she had reacted badly to some of the flurry of speculative gossip about her when their relationship had been publicized and he had appeared to shrug off her concerns, which had struck a match to her already kindling temper, and things had escalated from there.

But they worked through it and always ended up gravitating back together after they had a time-out, as Castle phrased it, retreating to their own spaces. And more importantly, Kate thought she had kept her promise never to involve Alexis in any of their arguments and they certainly tried never to argue when Alexis was around.

He made her happy and she hoped—no, she knew that by some miracle, she made him happy too. It was in his smile when he saw her, in the light in his eyes, in his voice. And of course, he told her so on a fairly regular basis.

She checked her phone, a little surprised to see that Castle had not texted her with an update on how his meeting at Black Pawn had gone, although she supposed the meeting could still be going on. Castle and Black Pawn were trying to iron out the plans for the release of _Heat Wave_ , the first Nikki Heat book. Black Pawn wanted to give Nikki the full red-carpet treatment with a big, glitzy launch party, a round of publicity interviews on TV and various public events for Castle, and had pushed for a personal interview (or two) with Kate herself as the inspiration for Nikki but Castle had pushed back on the interview with Kate, refusing on her behalf, and was trying to negotiate down on the publicity he would do because he didn't want to spend so many evenings out, away from Alexis. Kate assumed they would end up compromising in the middle but as she knew by now, Paula, Castle's agent, was very pushy when it came to PR, even if it admittedly served her well in her job, so it was possible the meeting was going longer than Castle had expected. She could easily picture him looking increasingly bored and fidgety and suppressed a smile at the mental image.

Speaking of boredom, it was time for her to get back to her paperwork, she accepted with a little sigh of resignation, forcing herself to concentrate on the mundanities of paperwork.

She got through the rest of her shift without either a call about a new body dropping or—more disappointingly—a text from Castle. Unless his meeting at Black Pawn had really gone insanely long, he had to be done by now. She was starting to wonder if something else was up with him. But even as she wondered it, as she cleared off her desk for the night and turned off her computer, she heard her phone chime and checked it to see the expected text from Castle.

It was about time.

She opened the message app to read the text.

 _Come and find me, cupcake._

That brat. What was he up to now? She rolled her eyes a little but knew it was belied by the smile tugging on her lips.

He didn't normally use ridiculous endearments but occasionally, he got a kick out of calling her "cupcake," because he liked the reference to their first meeting, that he liked to call the luckiest accident of his life (or the best reason for a ruined jacket), and she allowed it because he only used the endearment in private. She reserved the right to shoot him if he ever used it in public but between the two of them, she could allow it and, well, he was cute with that beguiling, teasing smile of his curling his lips whenever he called her "cupcake."

And today, she guessed that the word was serving double duty, as a clue to where he was. It was the sort of double meaning, play on words Castle would enjoy. So yes, she was reasonably sure she knew exactly where he was. At their bakery.

She sent him a text to let him know she was on her way and then set out to find him.

As she'd expected, so it proved.

She made it to their bakery—yes, she had relented and started thinking of it as their bakery the way he did since he'd made a point of returning to it for cupcakes on special occasions like her birthday, the one-year anniversary of her making detective, their first anniversary, the first day he had started shadowing her at work—in good time.

Unlike what he'd done for their first date, he had not cleared out the entire space but there was a sign on the door saying the bakery was "closed for a private event," and he was waiting to open the door for her.

"Beckett, you found me," he greeted her, giving her a quick kiss.

"I am a detective, you know." She smirked at him. "How'd your meeting go?"

He made a small face. "Fine. There is going to be a launch party for _Heat Wave_ ; sorry, they were adamant about that and to be fair, since I do think this is going to be the start of a new series and it's my first book after ending the Storm series, I think it's unavoidable. And I'll need to do a round of publicity, Good Morning America, the Tonight Show, that sort of thing, and they tacked on a few more book signings."

"Sounds like you'll be busy."

He pulled a beleaguered face. "I know, it's a hard life."

She patted his shoulder in mock commiseration. "Poor baby."

"You're mocking me when I've planned a surprise for you?" he pouted.

She widened her eyes at him in feigned surprise. "You haven't said anything about planning a surprise." Not that she hadn't already guessed that from the moment he sent the text.

"You're a detective. I thought you'd pick up on it," he tossed back.

She suppressed the laugh that was bubbling up inside her. "So what's my surprise?"

"Well, first, I wanted to give you this." He turned and picked up a flat, white rectangular box from a table behind him, handing it to her.

She lifted the lid off to see a stack of paper, bound along one margin, and on the front, in plain typeset, the words " _Heat Wave_ by Richard Castle." "It's finished now?" She knew he'd been working on the edits lately.

"It's finished. This is the final draft, the one that's going to be sent to the printers in the next couple days. I had them print off a copy to give to you."

She had read the first draft, as he'd promised she could, and they had wrangled over his taking out or changing some minor things but since then, she hadn't been involved, had let him take care of the edits from Gina without any further input from her. She smiled at him. "Thanks, Castle."

He returned her smile with a somewhat odd one of his own, shifting a little. "I wanted you to see the dedication."

She lifted the title page to find the typed dedication. _To the extraordinary KB—you make everything possible._ And underneath that, he had written _With my love, always, Rick._

Oh, this man… And was he about to… Butterflies were forming in her chest at the suspicion. The way he had reserved their bakery again just for them, his strangely ill-at-ease demeanor combined with the light in his eyes…

But she didn't comment, would let him proceed with his plan, so all she said was, "It's perfect. Thank you."

"I'm glad and now, why don't you sit down and pick a cupcake? What kind would you like?" He gestured to the display case and the neat row of cupcakes, one of every variety the bakery made.

"Chocolate with vanilla frosting."

"Coming right up but first, you have to close your eyes."

Yeah, he was definitely up to something. Her sweet, silly, and not at all subtle man.

She obediently closed her eyes. "Okay, they're closed."

She heard some quiet noises and then after a minute, he said, "Okay, open your eyes."

She did, her eyes finding him first, sitting on the chair opposite hers—not down on one knee—and then to the table, with a small pot of pansies in her favorite shade of purple and her chosen cupcake with—she felt herself deflating a little—nothing else on it.

Okay, maybe not what she had thought… hoped. (At least, not today, not yet. She still believed they would get there.)

She tried to control her expression but when her eyes made it back to his face, his eyes were dancing, a small smirk threatening to escape. "You look a little disappointed, were you expecting something else?"

The brat.

She narrowed her eyes at him a little but before she could respond, he was sliding out of his chair and, yes, onto one knee and whatever words she'd been about to say evaporated into nothing, turned into a small gasp instead.

He slid his hand into his pocket and when it emerged, his fingers were holding a ring. A beautiful ring with a diamond that caught the rays of the sun coming in through the windows making it sparkle like a living thing.

"I wasn't about to put this on the frosting. That's terribly unsanitary," he said with mock concern.

A strange sound that was a combination of a laugh and a sob escaped her and she lifted a hand to press her fingertips to her mouth. But that did nothing to quell the riot of happy butterflies in her chest.

Oh oh oh, he was… he really was proposing. And for all that she had hoped—dreamed—about this for months now, it didn't make the actual impact of the moment any less now that it was really here.

"Kate," he began and now his expression was entirely serious, even a little—was he nervous? He _was_. There was a hint of tension in the set of his shoulders, in the set of his lips. "The moment we met, my life became extraordinary. You are the most challenging, inspiring, frustrating, amazing person I have ever met and I love you. I want to raise my daughter with you and go to work with you and laugh with you and most of all, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me." He paused and now a faint smile flickered around his lips as he finished, "Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me?"

She blinked to fight back the stupid tears pricking at the back of her eyes, had to swallow hard to get rid of the lump of emotion in her throat. Only Castle could make her want to laugh and cry—and feel so in love—all at the same time. "Yes." The word emerged as something of a strangled croak and she had to swallow again before she managed, more clearly, "Of course, yes, I'll marry you."

He surged to his feet while she half-fell, half-jumped out of her seat and he caught her in his arms and kissed her, long and hard, until she was almost dizzy with it, or maybe she was just dizzy from the rush of love and happiness. Because she loved him and she was going to _marry_ him.

The kiss eventually dissolved as they were both smiling too widely to hold it and they broke apart. He caught her left hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger and then he kissed her again, softly this time, until it ended slowly, with them separating just enough to rest their foreheads together, smiling into each other's eyes. She was vaguely aware that they must look ridiculously besotted to any passerby but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"You said yes. You're really going to marry me," Castle blurted out and it was almost but not quite a question, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

She laughed, joy bubbling up inside her until it simply had to escape in a laugh. "Of course I'll marry you. I love you and I love Alexis."

"I love you too, Kate, so much."

She kissed him again at that and when she drew back, she was a little breathless—and giddy—but managed to say, "I was thinking, I could bring some more of my stuff over from my apartment and the next time the lease on my apartment is up, I don't have to renew it and…"

"You'll move into the loft," he finished for her, almost tripping over his words in eagerness. "Yes, that would be perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I never want you to leave."

She laughed again. "Good because you're stuck with me."

He laughed and kissed her, just a quick press of his lips against hers. "Oh, I almost forgot, we need to call your dad. I promised we'd tell him first thing."

Her dad—right, of course. God, she really wasn't thinking straight at all. "I'll call him but when did you talk to my dad?"

He laughed at her—irritating man that he was, although she couldn't muster up any actual irritation. "This afternoon. You didn't think I spent the entire afternoon at Black Pawn, did you? After my meeting was over, I called him and asked if it was okay that I stop by his office."

No wonder he hadn't contacted her after his meeting was over. He was meeting with her dad and arranging for all this. Clever and sneaky. And so like him to do this.

He widened his eyes in mock innocence. "I had to ask your dad's permission so of course I went to see him."

And he knew how much it would have meant to her dad to be asked. Oh this man. "I take it my dad said yes."

He sobered. "Yes, he did."

"My dad likes you," she told him as she pulled out her phone and called her dad.

"Jim Beckett," her dad answered, his crisp, work tone still a little reassuring to hear.

"Hi, Dad, it's me," she said, biting her lip in a futile attempt to contain her giddy grin.

"Katie! Do I take it you have some news for me?" She could hear her dad's smile in his voice.

"Yes, Dad, Castle and I are engaged." The smile she'd been trying to contain broke free and she knew she must be grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh Katie, congratulations! And to Rick too. I'm so happy for you, Katie." He paused and added, more quietly, "Your mom's happy too. Wherever she is, I know she's happy for you."

The mention of her mom served to quell her smile, not to disturb the happiness she felt, but just to make her pause, reflect. "Thanks, Dad," she told him quietly and thought, not for the first time, that she was so glad to have her dad back, so thankful that he was still sober, that their relationship had recovered from the hurt.

She and her dad didn't talk for much longer and ended the call with her dad congratulating them again and promising to meet up for their usual brunch that weekend.

"Oh, what about Alexis?" she asked as she put her phone away. "Where is she? We need to tell her too."

He grinned—well, no, he was already grinning so now he beamed, practically bursting with happiness. "Right, that reminds me, there's another question I wanted to ask you."

She wasn't sure where he was going with this but she couldn't be surprised he had yet more up his sleeve. "So ask me."

"Where do you want to have dinner? I made reservations for the two of us at La Grenouille or if you'd prefer, we can go back to the loft where my mother and Alexis are having dinner and I warned them we might join them."

La Grenouille would be delicious, of course, but it was a public place and almost inevitably, Castle would be recognized by someone and with the new, not exactly inconspicuous, ring on her finger, they'd probably attract some attention. All true but not the reason she didn't need to think before she answered, "Let's go home, Castle, and celebrate with our family." Because Alexis and Martha really were going to be part of her family for real, officially.

She was rewarded by the brightness of his smile, the sheer elation illuminating his face until she was half-surprised he wasn't actually glowing, and then he surged forward and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her clean off her feet. "You are amazing, you know that," he murmured into her ear.

She buried her face in his shoulder, flinging her arms around his neck as she held on. "I love you too."

He set her down only to cup her face between his hands and give her a deep, searching kiss that effectively scattered her wits and left her blinking a little when he released her and started preparing to leave. A task he accomplished remarkably quickly since he was all but bouncing in his happiness as he packed all the cupcakes that were out into a box, including her own untouched one on the table, and retrieved a bag to deposit the box that contained the _Heat Wave_ manuscript before placing the cupcake box on top of that, topped off by the pot of pansies.

That done, he caught her hand in his, tugging her in to kiss her cheek. "Let's go home, Kate."

She smiled at him, her heart lifting in her chest on a wave of joy. "Yes, let's."

And so they did.

Home to their family.

And if Kate had been harboring any doubts about how Alexis would feel about her dad marrying Kate, they would have been put to rest immediately because the moment they opened the door to the loft, Alexis gave a little shriek of excitement. "Did you say yes? Please say you did!" She grabbed Kate's left hand in both of hers, seeking and finding the ring, and emitted another cry of delight and threw herself at Kate. "Yes! You're going to be family now, really and truly!"

Kate laughed and hugged Alexis back, bending to press a kiss to the girl's cheek. "Of course I said yes. I love you guys, you know."

"I love you too, Kate. I wanted Dad to propose weeks ago but he kept saying he had a plan and wasn't about to ruin it."

"Oh, did he?" Kate turned her eyes to Castle, who had accepted Martha's hug and kiss on the cheek and was now watching them with soft eyes.

"I'm good with plans and see, it worked, didn't it?"

"I still think you should have asked sooner," Alexis said in mock scolding but couldn't hold the expression, giving into her grin and Kate released her to hug her dad. "Congratulations, Dad!"

Kate found herself pulled into Martha's embrace as Castle's mother also brushed a kiss on her cheek. "Congratulations, Katherine, I told my son months ago that he shouldn't let you go and I'm glad he finally decided to take my advice and make it official."

"Because naturally, Mother, this is all thanks to you," Castle added ironically.

Martha drew back to give Castle a look of theatrical surprise. "But of course it is, darling, I am the one who raised you and clearly, if Katherine is willing to put up with you, I must have done something right."

"She has a point, Castle," Kate inserted, mostly because she wanted to see the look on his face.

He pulled a look of mock dismay. "You're taking my mother's side against me already? You couldn't at least wait until after the wedding for that kind of betrayal?"

Wedding. Their wedding. Nope, the giddiness was definitely not going away.

"Darlings, we must have a toast to celebrate!" Martha interjected. "And Katherine, where is your father?"

"My dad? Oh, I think he's still at work." He had been when she had called him, at least, although she guessed he would probably be leaving soon. Her dad might not work 9 to 5 but he generally didn't stay at work through dinner anymore either.

"Well, if he's free, call him and tell him to come over for our celebration. We have plenty of food and this is about family!" Martha gave one of her characteristically expansive gestures to indicate all of them.

"I hate to say it but Mother's right, you should ask your dad to come over," Castle added.

"I'll call him." Kate slipped one arm around Alexis as the girl leaned against her side as she called her dad, extending the invitation and hearing his happiness in his voice as he agreed and said he would head right over.

Her eyes met and held Castle's gaze. "He's on his way," was all she said, the words commonplace, but she felt a flood of emotion swamp her heart at the thought, the open-heartedness with which Martha and Castle had welcomed not just her but her dad into the family. Her mom's absence still hurt—would always hurt—but being part of a family again made it easier.

"Good," Castle said, reaching out and bringing her in against him, forming a small circle with Alexis—and all the love she would ever want or need was in his eyes.

And for just a moment, she allowed herself to ignore the presence of Martha and Alexis as she rose up to kiss him, tasting his hope and his happiness and his love in his kiss. Just for a moment, though, before they were interrupted but even that was good—better than good—because this was her family and after all, she had the rest of her life to kiss him.

They were just getting started.

 _~The End (except for an epilogue)…~_

A/N 2: I had no idea when I started this story what an epic it would turn out to be and I cannot thank all of you who have stuck with this through it all enough. Your response to this story has been amazing and kept me going, even when the story wasn't quite cooperating. Thank you.


	51. Epilogue

Author's Note: And now, this story finally comes to an end.

 **Accidentally in Love**

 _Epilogue_

Kate opened the door to the loft, already feeling the tension from work start to unwind even before she set foot inside her home.

Alexis looked up from her spot curled up on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine, and gave her a sunny smile. "Hi, Mom. You're home early."

"Hi, Alexis," she greeted. "I thought you had a date with Ashley tonight?"

"I do but I don't need to leave for another hour."

"Ah, right. I finished up my paperwork so the Captain kicked me out. Oh, and the boys say hi," she added.

Alexis's expression brightened. "Say hi back! We should have them over again soon. Uncle Javi promised he'd teach me his secret poker tricks."

Kate laughed a little. Yeah, she bet Espo had. Both the boys were softies when it came to the kids and even had mini-battles arguing over which one was the favorite uncle, less so now that Alexis was older but even now, Espo occasionally lorded it over Ryan that he had known Alexis for a whole five months longer, like any child. "We'll have them over sometime this month for Christmas, sweetpea."

Alexis nodded, satisfied, and turned back to her magazine.

Kate glanced around but there was no sign of her husband anywhere and she didn't even sense his presence, as she usually did. "Where's the big trouble-maker?"

Alexis grinned at that. "He ran out for a quick errand, said he wanted to get more food for tomorrow and we're apparently out of candy canes."

Kate suppressed a smile. "And obviously, candy canes are a necessity," she observed dryly. It wasn't as if Castle didn't already have what amounted to a storage shed full of Christmas decorations but no, he had to run out and get more. Typical Castle. After she had talked to him, he had eased back a little on going all out for their first couple Christmases together but this year, they both agreed it was time to go big again and Castle had apparently taken that to heart. "And he left you with the little trouble-maker?" she asked with mock disapproval directed at her absent husband.

She bent over the rocker to see that Lily was, as she'd expected from the quiet, curled up and sleeping soundly, feeling the surge of emotion that still knocked her off her feet sometimes whenever she looked at her baby. Her baby—she had a baby. After spending a full day at work away from Lily, her arms almost itched to hold her, cuddle her baby to her chest, but she refrained, not wanting to wake Lily up. And knowing Lily, she would be awake and (loudly) demanding within a matter of hours, if not minutes, so she didn't want to disturb her now. Instead, she restricted herself to brushing her fingers lightly over Lily's feathery-dark hair, her smooth cheek.

"Lily dozed off about half an hour ago so that was when Dad decided to run out," Alexis explained, her voice quiet. "I volunteered to watch her until he got back."

Kate smiled at the girl, bending to drop a kiss on Alexis's hair. "Of course you did. I just want to make sure we don't start taking advantage of you as a built-in baby-sitter."

"I don't mind."

"Let us know if it gets to be too much. You have your own life."

"It really is fine, Mom," Alexis rolled her eyes a little.

"I'm only trying to be considerate," Kate pretended to huff.

"I know but you're turning into a broken record," Alexis's look was affectionate, softening the words. "Besides, I won't be around forever so I want to get my sister time in while I can."

"I can't get in the way of sister time, then, can I?" Kate said lightly but she felt a rush of love for Alexis. She had wondered, initially, how Alexis would react to the news, if Alexis would worry about being replaced or something, after being an only child for so long, but all her concerns had been for nothing. Alexis had been thrilled at the news, had gone so far as to volunteer to share her room with the baby (an offer that had been declined), and once Lily actually arrived, showered her baby sister with affection.

"I'm going to go change while the baby's still sleeping," she told Alexis before she retreated into the office, pausing to put her gun away. She had only just returned to work last week and it had been harder than she expected to leave Lily every morning. She had rather expected, imagined, before Lily had been born that she would get stir crazy and impatient to return to work but she hadn't been. She'd been impatient while on desk duty during her pregnancy and towards the end, had certainly been impatient to have the baby, but once Lily had been born, the impatience had vanished. She'd wanted to stay at home with her baby.

Kate changed into a loose sweatshirt she had appropriated from Castle some years ago and a pair of yoga pants and then washed her face clean from makeup too. She wanted to be able to nuzzle and kiss Lily when she woke up and that was better with a clean face.

She emerged from Castle's office only to crash right into her husband, obviously just returning from his errand as he had two shopping bags in one hand.

"Whoa, Beckett," Castle automatically caught her, his free arm stealing around her waist. He clicked his tongue against his cheek. "There you go again, you just can't keep from flattening yourself against me. I know I'm ruggedly handsome but you should work on your self control," he teased.

She snorted. "No, you keep getting in my way." She made an attempt to step back but he tightened his arm around her, keeping her in place.

"Not so fast, I think I'm going to charge a toll for bumping into me."

Ridiculous man. "A toll, huh?" She rose up on her toes to give him a quick peck on the mouth. Or at least, she intended for it to be a quick peck but Castle had other ideas, capturing her mouth with his and deepening the kiss, swiping his tongue into her mouth. (And fine, she may have been complicit, succumbing willingly.)

They only broke apart when Alexis interrupted with a loud groan. "Must you guys be so gross all the time? I'm going upstairs to get ready for my date. Try not to traumatize Lily with your grossness."

"Sorry, Alexis," Kate laughed a little, flushing, and receiving a wave of Alexis's hand as she disappeared upstairs. Kate did try not to embarrass Alexis too much but sometimes it was harder to remember that and it wasn't as if she'd ever been very good at resisting Castle's kisses. She pushed lightly against Castle's chest. "Move, Castle. Don't you even care that we're grossing out our daughters?"

"Hmm," was all he said and she glanced up at him to see that he'd acquired that somewhat glazed, absent look that had become familiar to her now.

"Do you need to go write?" she asked resignedly. She'd become used to Castle's writing fog—going into the vortex, as she and Alexis termed it—and knew the expression he got when his brain got sucked into the fictional world he created.

"Huh?" He blinked and his eyes returned to her.

"Go write, if you need to. It's my turn to watch Lily anyway," she offered.

"It's not that," he denied, although his look and his tone were still somewhat off, not quite his usual self. "It's just… you said 'our daughters,' Kate."

She blinked. "Yes, so?"

She saw nothing noteworthy in that. She'd been calling Alexis her daughter for years now, since they'd been engaged. The first time the words "my daughter" had slipped out, she'd been a little abashed, briefly worried about overstepping, but Alexis had only shot her a beaming smile. And when told about it later, Castle had pulled Kate into his arms and hugged her so hard it squeezed the breath from her lungs but only said, "It's as good as true." And now, it was true. She was Alexis's mom in every sense except biologically. She was the one Alexis talked to about puberty and boys and schoolwork and any adolescent troubles. Along with Castle, she was the one who praised Alexis for her grades, she planned surprises for Alexis's birthday, she took Alexis to the doctor and took care of Alexis when she was sick.

" _Our_ daughters. We have daughters," he repeated, as if he were saying something miraculous.

"Lily was born two months ago and you're just now realizing that? You're a little slow on the uptake, aren't you?" she quipped.

For once, he didn't laugh, a vague smile curving his lips, as he met her eyes, his own eyes so bright. "I'm just having one of those moments where I have to pinch myself that I'm not dreaming, that this is really my life."

She softened. "I have those moments too," she agreed quietly.

He gave her one of his small, tender smiles that existed mostly in his eyes and barely touched his lips before he bent and kissed her, softly this time. "You know," he began quietly, "for a long time, I was convinced that I'd never have all this, a wife, kids. After Meredith, I swore to myself that I'd only have a kid with someone who'd be there for the baby and love her just as much as I would, someone who'd be a real mom. And because of that, I thought for years that Alexis was going to be an only child and of course, Alexis was enough for me, but I thought I'd never have more than that."

She blinked rapidly, her throat feeling tight with emotion. She knew him so well but he still surprised her sometimes with the depths of his heart. He was such an amazing dad—as she'd always known—but he never seemed to take it for granted, maybe because he'd grown up without the stable, nuclear family of his dreams and then when he'd tried to build his own family, it had fallen apart so spectacularly thanks to Meredith. He made her so happy, was so good at bringing joy to other people, and it made warmth flood her chest at the knowledge that she had made a dream of his come true too. "Rick… you're going to make me cry," she tried to sound scolding but knew she failed miserably.

He kissed her again. "Thank you, love, for this, my life."

She managed a wobbly smile for him. "I love you too."

When he kissed her this time, he lingered, the kiss spinning out, one kiss turning into two and then three.

They only broke apart at the sound of a groan as Alexis reappeared, having changed into a skirt. "Really, guys?"

Alexis's reaction effectively broke the mood as they both laughed and Castle finally released Kate.

"Sorry, pumpkin," he said unrepentantly.

Alexis gave him a mock glower. "You say that, Dad, but it never seems to stop you."

He shrugged. "I'm a lost cause, a man in love with his own wife, so sue me," he tossed out over his shoulder, as he moved towards the kitchen with his bags.

"I would if I could," Alexis shot back with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm leaving for my date with Ashley."

"Have fun," Kate smiled.

"And be careful," Castle chimed in, his words almost overlapping with hers, in a refrain that had become commonplace.

"Yes, Mom, Dad," Alexis responded with exaggerated obedience.

"Don't get back too late," Castle added.

That made the teen roll her eyes. "Dad, I'll be home by 10." Kate hid a smile. Alexis was still the responsible one, even as a teen. And Castle amused her with his conflicting impulses since on the one hand, he wanted to encourage Alexis to go out and explore and stretch her boundaries but on the other hand, he had his own over-protective tendencies, wanting to keep his little girl safe. And he was not pleased that Alexis had a boyfriend now, even if he grudgingly approved of Ashley.

Alexis dropped light kisses on Castle's and Kate's cheeks in turn and bent over the rocker to kiss her fingertips before brushing them against her sister's cheek. "Bye, Lily," she whispered.

Kate's heart melted and glanced at Castle to see that he, too, had the soft look in his eyes he usually got when he watched Alexis with Lily. Alexis never failed to greet Lily or say goodbye, even when Lily was sleeping as she was now. And Kate knew that Castle was privately hoping that Alexis's love for Lily would persuade her to stay close to home, even in the City, for college too, rather than going far away. He'd almost had a coronary when Alexis had mentioned possibly going to Oxford for a summer program, a plan that had been shelved the moment Kate announced her pregnancy, to Castle's ill-concealed delight. As for Kate, she had inwardly resolved not to try to influence Alexis on the question; she wanted Alexis to feel free to go away for college, no matter how much Kate herself selfishly wanted to keep her girl close.

Alexis left on her date and Castle busied himself putting away the grocery items he'd bought.

"Oh, your dad called earlier," he mentioned, pausing with one hand on the refrigerator door.

"I swear I think my dad calls you more often than he does me these days," she pretended to gripe. She was joking. Mostly. She and her dad still tried to keep up with their usual lunch or dinner on the weekends, about once a month now, but in between those times, it certainly seemed as if her dad talked to Castle about as often as he talked to her.

Her husband grinned at her. "Sadly, I don't think it's my sparkling conversation that's the attraction. It's because he wants to say hi to Lily."

"I know, babe." Her smile was soft. Her dad adored Lily, had taught himself to use Skype just so he could see her whenever he called, and he was already volunteering to take Lily overnight when Lily was a few months older to allow her and Castle some time to themselves. "So what'd my dad say?"

"He just wanted to confirm the plans for tomorrow. He's going to go out to the lot to pick out a tree tonight and he plans to get here around 2 tomorrow so there'll be plenty of time to help decorate before dinner."

They hadn't wanted to take Lily out to pick a Christmas tree since she was still so small and hadn't gotten all her shots yet so instead, they had delegated to her dad to pick a tree and Castle had arranged to have the tree delivered tomorrow. They were having a family get-together to decorate, both the tree and the loft, so Martha and her dad were coming over.

Her dad had not committed to joining them for Christmas Day itself, since the holiday was still hard for him, but Kate was hoping that she—or more accurately, Lily—would be able to persuade him to really spend Christmas with them this year. She understood—of course she did—how her dad felt but she wanted everyone there for this Christmas, Lily's first Christmas. She made a mental note to ask her dad again tomorrow. But then again, she might not even need to do the asking; Castle might well ask her dad before she did. It seemed like Castle invited her dad at least half the time, beating her to it, and she loved him for it, how easily he'd brought her dad into the family.

"By 'help decorate,' you know he means that he'll watch Lily while you and I do all the decorating," she inserted.

Castle laughed. "He and Alexis can argue over who gets to watch Lily."

As if the sound of her name had disturbed her, Lily stirred, squirming in her rocker and emitting the little squawk that served as a precursor to tears.

Kate immediately turned, bending to pick her daughter up, crooning to her. "Hi, baby, you're awake now, huh? Were you good today for Daddy?"

The baby's only response was to wrinkle up her face as she emitted a whimper, fractious as she often was when she was just awoken (something Kate teased Castle had been inherited from him) and Kate cradled her precious baby closer as she tried to soothe Lily out of her fractiousness.

Lily's face was still scrunched up in displeasure, emitting the occasional whimper as she fussed, although she wasn't actively crying. "She might be hungry. When did you feed her last?" Kate asked her husband, although she kept her eyes on her daughter. As usual, she felt a spike of worry, approaching fear, when her daughter was unhappy. She was learning but she still felt inadequate sometimes, unsure of her footing as a mother. (Being a mother was terrifying enough but mothering a baby was astronomically more terrifying because babies were so fragile and couldn't articulate their needs. She wouldn't trade Lily for anything but it couldn't be denied that having her might be the most terrifying thing Kate had ever done.)

And her own mom wasn't there to give her advice.

"It was about an hour and half ago so yeah, she could she hungry," her husband concurred, coming around the island to join her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and touching his fingertips lightly to Lily's cheek. "You can take care of feeding her and I'll take care of feeding us. Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed but allowed herself to lean into Castle's body for a moment, as she fought a sudden wave of melancholy.

Grief sometimes hit her at odd moments, striking out of the blue, when she remembered that her mom wasn't here, would never get to see her granddaughter. The thought hurt—it would always hurt—but being with him made it easier.

He had always done that for her, she thought, helped to fill the hole left in her heart by her mother's death with joy, all the love he had brought into her life, not just his but Alexis's, Martha's, their whole family.

"You okay?" he murmured, somehow sensing her shift in mood, as he so often did.

She lifted her face and managed a smile for him. "Just… missing my mom," she admitted quietly. "But I'm happy too."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes so soft, so understanding, but then he nodded, bending to kiss her hair. "She'd be so proud of you, you know. Wherever she is, I know she's proud and so happy for you."

"Happy for us, Rick," she corrected, "She'd be happy for us."

"Right, of course, just like your dad is."

The mention of her dad made her smile widen a little, a little spurt of warmth blossoming in her chest. "Think we'll persuade him to spend Christmas with us this year?"

"Yes," he answered confidently. Ever the optimist, her Castle. "Lily will persuade him." He bent over their daughter, his voice becoming a coo. "You'll persuade Grandpa, right, Lily-pad?"

In answer, Lily squawked and they both laughed in spite of themselves.

"Yeah, I think she's getting hungry," he agreed.

"Yes, baby, I know, Mommy will feed you now," she crooned, moving to sit down in her chair at the table, her smile lingering on her face.

She remembered what Castle had said earlier; she could hardly believe this was her life now either. Could hardly believe she had all this, that she could come home at the end of her day to this beautiful home, to her daughters, to her husband. But this really was her life now and she'd never been happier.

 _~The End~_

A/N 2: Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this story. I cannot thank you enough for your kind words that have made me smile and encouraged me even when the story wasn't fully cooperating.


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